Cyrus Black and the Legend of Tyranicus
by vandy222
Summary: Part 1 complete! What if Lucius and Bellatrix went with Voldemort on that Halloween night? How would things have changed if Harry was taken from his crib after defeating the Dark Lord? Arranged Marriages, No Horcruxes, Powerful/Slytherin Harry! Part 2 up!
1. Chapter 1

"Master! P-Please master! I beg of you, I withhold no more from you! You know everything!" cried the lump of a man, now nearly on the verge of tears.

Seconds later Voldemort lazily flicked his wand and muttered "Crucio," in an almost amusing tone.

The man fell from his knees to the floor, wildly withering and shrieking in unimaginable pain. His foot was incoherently stomping the floor, begging for his master to release the curse.

"My patience is wearing thin with you Wormtail, I will not tolerate anymore of your lies. You will give me the boy's location now or you will continue to suffer the consequences," Voldemort finished in a rather nonchalant fashion, more delighted his follower's scenario than frustrated. After all, he knew that he would get the information he needed in the end.

After a few more moments of the cruciatus, the curse was lifted and Wormtail - now in the fetal position - shakily muttered "B-But my lord, m-my friends... my friends-"

"Crucio!"

The man rolled over and continued to cry in agony before he could manage to continue his plea. Rodolphus Lestrange had to withhold his wife, Bellatrix, from marching over to the whaling man and delivering a swift kick to his ribs for daring to deny Lord Voldemort before her master finally lifted the curse and bellowed, "Enough Wormtail!... It is time you decide your loyalties," he hissed dangerously. "Shall it be your 'friends'? Or your lord? Your incompetence aside, you have been given far too long to make up your mind. I dare say, choose wisely my sniveling rat!"

Pettigrew, now out of breath and clutching his gut on the floor, gasped "G-Godric's Hollow... m-my lord...Godric's Hollow."

Voldemort allowed his lips to curl into a cruel smile as he stared at the man curled in front of his feet. "Very well Wormtail. Very well. You may be useful yet...yes. Yaxley! Return the oaf to the dungeons. Lucius! Bella!...Dolohov, come with me. We have much to discuss," Voldemort ordered as he rose from his ornate throne and began to stride towards the large oak doors leading to a conference room. As he exited the room with his robes billowing behind him, the others in the inner circle looked quite disappointed that their master had not chosen them for his mission.

October 31, 1981

It was 10 P.M on Halloween as Bellatrix, Lucius, Dolohov, and Lord Voldemort apparated outside the Potter's hideout under a disillusionment charm. The Potter's hideout was a sizable white stone cottage at the end of Godric Hollow's main street with a canopy of walnut trees along the road leading to their house. As Lord Voldemort began hissing a series of incantations in parseltongue to break the secondary wards set by Dumbledore, they could see the Potter child inside through the window zooming around on a toy broom chasing a stream of smoke Sirius had shot from his wand - all while Lily was evidently reprimanding him for letting the child fly inside.

James Potter, Lily's former husband, had died soon after Lily became pregnant with Harry in a battle at the Ministry of Magic while trying to save two of his companions, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-eye Moody. Though James was able to duel Voldemort while Kingsley and Mad-eye recovered and retrieved their wands, also managing to surprise the dark lord with a dazzling display of power that Voldemort would remember upon his son's birth, his bravery was soon overmatched by the dark lord's innate power. James Potter, known by all as one of the leaders of the light, was mourned after for weeks following the battle.

While Sirius and Lily had dated before Lily's engagement to James, there was no true romanticism between the two and both of them understood this perfectly well. Nonetheless, shortly after Harry's birth Sirius proved to love the child as if he were his own flesh and blood. Sirius viewed Harry as his last connection to James Potter, his best friend of nearly two decades, someone who had fought and sacrificed beside him in battle, and a fellow companion that had a fierce belief in a common cause. The man was no less than a brother to Sirius, and in believing that James would have wanted Harry to have a loving father growing up, both Lily and Sirius agreed on a marriage arrangement for the sake of the child. Moreover, something only known by Peter Pettigrew and two other select death eaters, was that Sirius was so intent on protecting Harry upon his birth that he decided to undergo an obscure and ancient blood adoption ritual (a Swedish ritual named the orbus cruor ritus) used in the medieval era. It was a last ditch effort once Sirius had become wary that Pettigrew succumbed to the death eaters, but it was his belief that even Lord Voldemort would think twice before executing a dark blooded child of one of the most ancient blood lines in wizarding England. After all, if the dark lord began to kill off dark blooded heirs then his followers could potentially defect.

At any rate, Pettigrew knew of the blood adoption for two reasons. First, it was required that another individual perform the ritual for the blood to properly coalesce (which endowed the child with a portion of the parent's traits, magical and nonmagical), and second, Sirius knew that this information would be passed on if Pettigrew truly had betrayed them. As expected, Bellatrix and Lucius became aware of what Sirius had done when the rat decided to reveal the information to the dark lord while in their presence. In Sirius' mind, even if Lily and himself were eventually killed off, the Black's family blood would at least give Harry a chance - however small - at life.

Back inside the cottage, as Sirius and Lily were about to get Harry ready for bed, they felt a rumbling vibration through the air and a loud crack. Instantly, Sirius turned around and started to look outside to see what had caused the commotion. He began to make out the shadowy figures that grew clearer in the lawn as they approached the front door, along with one deathly yet feminine cackle that could only belong to Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Lily! Lily, they're here! They're here!" Sirius began to shout hoarsely. Seconds later Lily came rushing into the room with Harry tightly clutched in her arms as he turned to the windows again to see how much time they had left, noticing that the cloaked figures were not more than twenty yards from the entrance. Lily was about to ask Sirius what was going on when he quickly interrupted and shouted, "Listen! We have no time! Get your broom and get Harry out of here now! I'll hold them off as long as I can! GO!"

"M-My broo-" she stopped. It dawned on her immediately. Voldemort had found them. The commotion was caused by the destruction of their protective wards, and obviously the enactment of new ones (anti-apparition, portkey, and floo wards for starters). The Dark Lord wouldn't give them an easy escape and she knew that he could only be seconds away from the entrance. Her mind stopped racing at once and she knew what she had to do. She trembled with eyes glistening of unshed tears.

"I'll never forget you Sirius," she said before before racing around the furnishings to the granite staircase just as the front door burst open.

A commanding figure cloaked in black from head to toe stood in the doorway with a slight smirk on his face. "Ah, Black. How noble of you to be the first to go, only befitting for a blood-traitor," Voldemort drawled. "Have you seen your 'son,' Black? He and I have rather urgent business to attend to at once you see..."

"You will not take a step near my son! You are an abomination to wizards!" Sirius roared with unrestrained fury.

Voldemort only chuckled at the man's sentiments. "I do wish I could stay and play for a while Black, but young Harry requires my immediate attention. Surely you can understand," Voldemort said as he began to casually draw nearer to the staircase that Sirius was guarding.

Sirius raised his wand to shout a curse, but before he could even began to mouth the words Voldemort hissed in parseltongue and flicked his wand near Sirius's boots.

Not expecting an attack at his feet, Sirius wasn't able to react in time. The curse hit him as he looked down and was now beginning to tremble. It felt as if the threads holding his boots together had transformed into tubes full of pumping water that he could now feel rushing against the sides of his shins. He had thought the curse had failed at first and was about to attack again when the sides of his boots exploded. Four very thin magical vine snakes with large fangs and crimson eyes shot upwards from where the threads of his boots once were and quickly wrapped themselves around Sirius, binding him tightly and rendering him unable to move. The last snake finished wrapping itself around Sirius' shoulders in a matter of seconds as he lost his balance and fell to the floor. He struggled helplessly as the serpent shot upwards in one rapid motion before digging its fangs into the left side of his neck, causing Sirius' head to shoot backwards as blood and jet black venom began to pour profusely from the bite. In a desperate attempt he tried to move his hand forward to cover the gushing wound but it was useless, he was completely bound and convulsing uncontrollably on the floor as he started to drool at the mouth.

Voldemort carelessly stepped over the man and glided up the stairs as his death-eaters followed closely behind. Bellatrix, however, paused to cast a cruciatus and step on one of the few body parts left uncovered by the thin serpents- his crotch- to watch her blood-traitor cousin moan and gurgle in excruciating pain before following her master up the stairs.

Voldemort had already made his way down to the last room of the long hallway where he heard a window opening. Quickly, he burst through the door and saw Harry on top of a flat mahogany dresser as Lily urgently dashed over with broom and wand in hand to guard her child from the dark lord and the cloaked figures that followed him in from behind.

"Move girl," Voldemort hissed. " I am here only for the boy, your miserable life has been spared."

"W-What? No...no, please. Not Harry! Take me! Take me instead!" Lily shrieked as she became hysterical, not even bothering a useless attempt to defend herself from the monster.

"Step aside you silly girl!"

"No!" Lily cried in a weep. Not Harry! Please! Plea-"

"Step aside!"

"Take me! Not Harr-"

Knowing he had little time to spare before the aurors arrived, Voldemort hissed "Avada Kedavra!" and Lily's body fell to the floor in a motionless state.

Voldemort, now only a couple feet away from the boy, paused for a fleeting moment. He looked inquiringly into the child's curious emerald eyes and could see something quite unnatural. It was almost as if they were glowing. But there was something else unusual about the boy that Voldemort could perceive as well. From the moment he had entered the room, Harry's presence was felt. His magical aura was one he had never experienced before, causing a cold prickling sensation to erupt throughout Voldemort's body as he approached him further. It was a pity to the dark lord that such a unique power had to be wasted, but the prophecy did indeed indicate that he would be a threat and he knew of only one way to rid himself of that threat forever.

Without a further moment's hesitation, Voldemort lifted his wand and placed it inches from Harry's forehead before he stated the sweetest possible voice he could muster, "It's time you join your parents now Harry...Avada Kedavra!"

The moment the curse left his wand a puzzled and frightened look overcame the dark lord as he had only a fraction of a second to escape the rebounding curse. It was too late though; Voldemort was entirely unprepared to dodge his own killing curse and had barely moved an inch before the curse came careening towards his chest. The moment the green light hit had him he flew backwards onto the ground with a force and laid entirely still, his chest unmoving, his arms and legs sprawled; his eyes rolled back.

There was about a full minute of silence before anyone broke out of their shock. No one was entirely sure if they could believe what had just happened. But there he was in front of them, the dark lord himself lying on the floor motionless and dead. Lucius looked as if he had just been slapped by a muggle, with utter disbelief written across his face. Bellatrix on the other hand looked terrified, not even able to breathe. Her entire life's work, the advancement of the dark wizarding agenda under the guidance of her lord, had instantly been crushed and taken from her before here very eyes. She rushed over to the fallen dark lord and fell on her knees to mourn as if she had just lost a lover, seemingly not able to accept the tragic turn of events... waiting for her lord to awake. Dolohov, however, seemed to promptly understand the situation at hand after about thirty seconds of astonishment and clutched the crib he was standing next to, thinking frantically. Then there was the boy - now the boy-who-lived - crying and grasping at his forehead as a gentle stream of blood came trickling down his face.

Lucius, who snapped out of his trance, thought about the present scenario ever so carefully before deciding to make a move. Like Bella, he was devoted to the dark's cause and believed the dark lord to be an indispensable power in the war. Though his death was clearly a tragedy and a turning point he had not foreseen, Lucius Malfoy never acted upon impulse. Instead, he looked for the opportunities in any situation at hand. For him, though devastated that such an asset for the dark had fallen, a golden opportunity was becoming vaguely clear. The boy, or the prophecy of the 'chosen one', had just defeated one of the greatest dark lords of all time as a mere infant. Whether it was a display of raw power or merely manipulated circumstances, or both, he was unsure. However, he regarded the boy as a mystery worth investigating for the moment.

Taking a couple of steps forward and allowing the commanding thumps of his boots to call attention to himself, he trembled in a quiet yet grave tone,

"May our Lord's spirit live on, and let his soul rest in ever lasting peace."

Lucius then bowed his head slightly, waiting for his fellow death-eaters to follow. Bella sobbed even more at this and began to rest her head on her master's chest in final acceptance while Dolohov nodded his head in respect, the wheels in his mind evidently still turning. He was still busy comprehending the death of his master and its consequences. Was he safe? He had been entirely dependent and followed orders for the last decade of his life, both out of fear and self-interest. He like many other death eaters wanted the status quo to remain the same for as long as possible. As it was though, without the dark lord's protections, he would no longer be able to pursue any of his interests. Void of the dark lord's curtain of protection, or at least perceived protection, laws could no longer simply be disregarded and past crimes would now have consequences.

Lucius, seeing that he wasn't about to be interrupted, continued in a rushed tone now.

"We don't have much time, Flamel and the aurors will be here any minute, probably with old goat too. We have to move now..." he turned to the boy who had stopped crying and was now examining his lifeless mother and said, "And clearly, it seems we have a rather...mysterious individual on our hands. We shall take him with us and discuss what will become of him later. Bella, it's time-"

A trembling Dolohov who looked like he had just been assaulted by Lucius' sudden plan cut him off.

"T-Take him with us? Are you mad? Why in Merlin's name would we take the boy with us? The boy's supposed to be dead! We'll have all of wizarding England looking for us! I say we kill the boy and get out of here with our Lord's...b-body," Dolohov stammered before quickly finishing "before anyone notices something went wrong! If they know our lord has fallen we're done for! Finished! The aurors will be raiding our homes within days!"

Lucius stepped closer towards Harry with a vicious smirk on his face that told Dolohov he knew something the rest weren't aware of. Lucius had planned on a protest, knowing both Dolohov and Bellatrix would disagree - though Bellatrix was unable as she remained in a state of shock. Dolohov looked at him with bewilderment as Lucius began to speak again in a cold, monotone voice and explained to the man his suspicions in regards to the boy. Although he wasn't entirely sure where he was taking his explanation, the cunning Malfoy had other plans in mind as he quickly tried to quell Anthony's fears.

Harry, who was examining his mother, peered over at the recently fallen dark lord and noticed Bellatrix weeping over the dead body. He then looked back over at his mother, who had still not moved since falling to the ground. Harry had began to vaguely understand the intentions of the people around him as best he could for a two year-old. These people had hurt him and his mother was now on the floor, still and completely unmoving. Harry's young mind was spinning as he stared back over at Voldemort's body, noticing that the man was just hit by the same green light as his mother.

He had already slid off the mahogany drawer and was now pulling his mothers hand and trying to get her off the ground, but the arm simply fell back to her side, completely still. The boy tried again and again but could only stare when he realized his mother wasn't getting up. Harry fell to the ground on his knees beside his mother, hardly understanding what was going on around him. All he knew was that his mum, like the man next to her with the mourning woman, was gone. He could feel her body lose its warmth and began to bawl uncontrollably, the magnitude of the situation now dawning on him. His mother would never move again.

Harry quickly turned his head to the dead man lying next to the weeping woman. Though Harry couldn't speak full sentences or entirely process the information before him at such a young age, he could feel the rage and anger build inside of him and his yearning to set it free. He could see the memories of what had just happened replay in his mind as he continued to stare at his mother. The flash of green light, the last voice he'd ever hear from his mother - a scream with Harry's name- and a thud on the floor.

The inability to fully comprehend the loss of his mother and the rage building inside of him for the man responsible was too much for the boy's young mind to take. He had never felt the type of fury building in his veins nor the tingling sensation emitted from his gut and radiating throughout his entire body, resting and concentrating the sensation in his hands and fingertips. He had lost almost complete control of his mind in a trance of fury that had taken over. Tiny white swirls began to form in his pupils and his skin began to glow a slight golden hue. Without thinking of what he was doing, Harry had let his emotions take complete control. He felt as if his rage was concentrated in the tingling sensation he felt radiating throughout his body and attempted to force the sensation into his hands, the only place he felt it could exit. He wanted to release what it was he was feeling and scream in rage.

Tensing his body, he attempted to release the tingling sensation but couldn't control it. Instead, the sensation had erupted inside of him and he felt a boiling vibe in his blood and a white flash of anger and hatred towards the man that had killed his mother. The stone cottage shook slightly and the room they were standing in exploded in a blazing white flame that was burning through everything in its path and at a much faster rate than any ordinary fire would. As the white flames consumed near everything in its path, everyone in the room stopped and looked back around at the boy. He had tiny white pools swirling in his pupils and a golden hue surrounding his skin, with his black raven hair blown to the side from the gust coming through the open window. Harry looked oblivious to his surroundings and entirely taken over by rage. His eyes were glazed over and directed at the fallen dark lord with a deathly expression in them.

Lucius' jaw dropped and was now fully immersed in curiosity, and for a moment was just as oblivious to his surroundings as Harry. Bella only stared at the boy as she desperately tried to understand what was happening, looking back and forth between Harry and her fallen master. Just as Lucius turned his back to the boy once again and discreetly placed his wand on the child's forehead, muttering a spell to put him in a trance, Dolohov roared "Aurors! They're here!"

Bellatrix quickly got to her feet and viewed from the window. She could see Flamel waving his wand attempting to break the new wards set by Voldemort, though still no Dumbledore. Her mind reluctantly left the thoughts of her fallen master and was now trying to create a plan of escape. Lucius, however, was ahead of both of his fellow death eaters. He was facing Dolohov but still hadn't taken his wand from Harry's forehead. The tip of Lucius's wand was now glowing a bright light blue.

Dolohov and Lucius merely stared at each other with an intense gaze as the room around them began to crumble.

Noticing the two dunderheads doing nothing but staring at one another, Bellatrix screeched, "You FOOLS! The aurors are here! The wards will be down any second! We must leave NOW!" She rushed back over to Voldemort's body to retrieve the portkey he made for their exit.

Lucius, however, only continued to stare at Dolohov as a piece of burning plaster fell onto Voldemort's body, forcing Bella to jump backwards.

Finally though, the Malfoy elder broke his gaze and decided to act. While Harry was building up his incoherent rage, Lucius had been discussing his plans for the boy with Dolohov. However, he acted as if he were slowly coming around to Dolohov, pretending to agree with the plump death eater. He wanted to catch the man off guard.

"Perhaps you a right, Anthony. Leaving the Potter boy dead with no traces of our lord's demise," Lucius stated in a calculating manner, "seems to be the soundest plan. The presence of our lord does indeed extend us necessary protections and if anyone were to find out of his fall…." Lucius paused before letting out a shiver before continuing over the crackling of the white flames that had now consumed half of the room, "But the boy is of far too much interest at the present moment. I believe... we'll have to pursue both plans Anthony. I'm truly sorry it has to be this way my friend."

Dolohov stared at Lucius, bewildered. Did he hear Lucius say both plans? Moreover, did he just hear Lucius Malfoy actually apologize, to him? He thought he may have misheard the man but before he could say a word Lucius had taken his wand from behind his back and from Harry's forehead, aimed it straight at Dolohov and shouted, "Ingemino!"

The curse hit Dolohov before he knew what had happened. Immediately, his body began to shrink and transform as his face morphed before Lucius' and Bella's eyes. After several painful seconds, he resembled a replica of a two-year-old Harry Potter. It was Harry's doppelganger.

Dolohov, wide eyed and now realizing Lucius' intentions, tried to find his wand that he had dropped during his transformation but fell to the floor seconds later. Lucius' killing curse had hit him square in the chest.

Bellatrix only glared with her jaw dropped, but didn't dare to interfere with whatever the head Malfoy had in mind. Lucius immediately grabbed the doppelganger and put it in Harry's crib. He then took Harry's hand, as he was still under Lucius' trance, and snarled at Bellatrix, "The portkey Bella! NOW! We have no time to discuss!"

Knowing that the room would be in ashes soon and that Flamel would destroy the wards at any moment, she wasted no more time and did as she was ordered. Bellatrix was still in shock by all that she had seen that night and was only able to stumble towards Lucius and Harry as she made her way towards them on the only un-burnt path left. In an instant she held out her hand with the portkey, a golden stopwatch. Lucius then took Harry's hand as well as their fallen lord's on the ground next to them as they grabbed the portkey together. Once they had all had a hand on the stopwatch, Bella muttered, "Riddle Manor," disappearing just before the wards were brought down.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucius, Bella, and Harry arrived in the dungeons of Riddle Manor and made their way to a chamber with an elegant long table, several maps plastered to the stone walls, and a number of candles scattered about to keep the room dimly lit. It looked as though the meeting room was used for planning raids and battles, yet Bella noticed that she had never before seen the room. It was in a secluded wing of the dungeons that she wasn't even aware existed.

"Sit," Lucius drawled at Bellatrix as he put Harry down in the middle of the table.

Bellatrix, not accustomed to taking orders from anyone but her lord, hesitated for a moment but decided it was best to listen to what the man had to say before snapping at him. After all, she was still in utter shock and thought herself to be in no state to be making any decisions. Lucius, on the other hand, had just murdered an inner circle death eater in cold blood. As always, he looked as though he had a plan. The Malfoy elder was displaying the type of ruthless cunning that had helped establish himself among the political elite in wizarding society, keeping an eye open for opportunity in even the darkest of times.

Once they were both seated he cast a glance at the child and spoke, "Beautiful child, isn't he, Bella?"

"Filthy half-blood!" Bellatrix screeched in a low, unfeminine tone. It was all she could muster at the moment, not sure whether to kill the boy or jump across the table and strangle Lucius for daring to call the slayer of her master 'beautiful.' First and foremost though, she was itching to know what the brat was doing with them.

"Now, now. We aren't even aware of his mother's origins. Always presumed a mudblood of course, with her muggle up bringing...but if I were a betting man, and I am, I would put my galleons elsewhere. " Lucius paused and then stated, "He is one of us, after all," finishing with a rather sly expression. He wanted to start from square one with Bella, which ran much deeper than quelling her concerns about the boy's blood purity. He wanted to remind her that he knew that the boy who was responsible for the dark lord's fall had the Black's family blood running in his veins, which rendered him a dark blooded wizard.

Bella was caught off guard by how Lucius began their conversation. The boy had just killed the dark lord and he was talking about his lineage! 'What in Slytherin's name is going on?' she thought to herself, 'and what does he mean that he is one of us? Was Dolohov right? Had Lucius gone mad?' She couldn't understand - Lucius Malfoy always had a plan.

Lucius was surprised it was taking her so long until finally it her like a bludger in the kidney. It was obvious. Her head shot up at once.

"Lucius, y-you wouldn't?" she asked desperately. She trembled for a moment before her impulsive rage instantly took over as she stood up, whipped out her wand and roared, "I SHOULD HAVE MADE YOU TAKE THE OATH THE SEC-"

Bellatrix was quickly interrupted by Lucius' wicked laugh, with his wand still in his holster. He soon recovered though and began explaining himself before she could curse him.

"Calm yourself Bella," Lucius began in an aristocratic manner, pausing for a moment before continuing in a sincere voice, "I was never intending to use that information against you. I was merely implying that you should be proud, my dear."

Bellatrix erupted, "Proud! PROUD! That my own blood should be responsible for the fall of the dark lord? Do you know what this means! If anyone finds out Lucius...my f-family," Bellatrix began to mutter under her breath. She couldn't bear to see her family put to shame, or worse killed off. It was one of the few things Bellatrix cared for in life. It wasn't that she necessarily cared for everyone in her family - far from it -, but she held her family name in great esteem and couldn't stand to see it ruined among the dark.

Immediately, Lucius interrupted her train of thought. "Follow my lead and you will not have to worry about such things."

It wasn't a question or a command; instead Lucius spoke the sentiment as if it were a statement of fact. He had an air of confidence surrounding him that didn't seem possible at such a time. Lord Voldemort's body lay only a few feet away, which they were barely able to grab hold of under the burning rubble and plaster before vanishing.

Bellatrix, still in a state of panic, knew she didn't have many options. She pondered what was now to become of the dark for a few moments and then looked at Lucius and noticed a glint of determination in his eyes. He wasn't panicking; he was already scheming and seemingly had everything under control. Having no one else to turn to, she gazed at him and nodded, encouraging him to continue on.

Lucius understood and once again continued in a soft and calculating manner, "A turning point in the war has come and decisions must be made, Bella. The dark lord has fallen... it is true, but we cannot allow the dark to go with him. It is only a matter of time before the ministry discovers his fall, as it cannot be concealed forever. When this happens, many of us will be hunted down like animals and be given to the dementors. Our homes will be raided, many of our possessions will be destroyed, and a countless number of bloodlines will finally be put to an end. Only Merlin knows what filth our children will be sent to," Lucius started to shiver at this. He had not thought about his newborn, Draco, or what was to become of their bloodline if something were to happen to him and Narcissa. Where would he be sent? Though it was unlikely that a Malfoy would be unable to escape prison, the thought of his family being torn apart was impossible to bear. Furthermore, Lucius knew the ministry would surely stomp out as many bloodlines as humanely possible and that if the dark was to have any chance at survival, he would somehow have to save far more than his own family. His eyes were fixated in space for a brief instant before he briskly regained his confidence and continued to speak.

"I haven't spent my entire life in the political arena for nothing," his eyes glancing back over to Bella's reassuringly, "I believe I have enough influence with the minister and within the several committees I head to save some of us. Perhaps the ministry will even spare some of our closer friends from the dementors and have them sent to Nurmengard, but it will cost a great deal in both fortune and influence, Bella. Our contributions will only go so far and unfortunately...I do not have an endless supply of personal debt."

Bellatrix looked as if she understood as he carried on, "We have very little time. Perhaps a year...maybe two at the very most before the ministry realizes," he stopped and glanced over at Voldemort's body, swallowing the knot in his throat after a moment before continuing, "realizes our lord's fall. Hundreds of dark blooded families will be in danger, and frankly... most of them are likely to suffer at the ministry's hand, and you can be assured that Dumbledore!" he spat with fury "will do everything in his power to snuff us out of existence! However..." he began to calm himself and again regained his aristocratic composure, "if we act wisely, we may be able to save the dark from total destruction. It is possible that select bloodlines could be saved with enough influence. Understand?"

Bella nodded slowly and it looked as though she was beginning to catch on a little bit.

"Clearly," he continued with distaste "we have suffered a great loss, but we cannot sit here and wallow in misery. If we plan on saving the dark bloodlines from destruction, we must make the best of it." He paused once more before adopting the most sincere tone he could manage. "Your great-grandfather Cygnus Black and I will both have much to say in the matter, as we each head the two wealthiest families in wizarding England."

Cygnus Black was quite a bit older than Dumbledore himself and many believed he would soon pass away. He remained neutral in the war as best he could, though inevitably funded the dark's cause when left little choice in the matter. It was impossible for men of his station to remain neutral, as Lord Voldemort wouldn't accept it. Still, he associated with many light wizards and held a number of differing views than his dark blooded companions. He was much like Sirius, but when it truly mattered he backed down from his principles. He was a light wizard at heart that believed he could better serve the community from a position of power, and comfort of course. Yet, at this point in his life he cared for little more than the safety and well being of what little family he had left. Sirius' mother had already disowned him before the war and Regulus had died just a few years later. Furthermore, his own son Pollux Black and grandson Cygnus Jr. had also been killed during the war. In all, there were no male heirs left to carry on the Black family name and this was greatly disturbing to Cygnus. The war had come at a great cost to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

From Lucius' perspective they would be in charge of 'purifying' the dark bloodlines of wizarding England. This wasn't what he preferred as they were already greatly outnumbered, but when the ministry realized that Lord Voldemort had fallen he knew that they - along with the Order - would slaughter and incarcerate as many followers of Voldemort's as they could find.

By the climax of the war the vast majority of dark wizarding families in England were supporters of the dark lord, rendering the defeat of Lord Voldemort as the fall of the first 'domino' within a long, winding chain. This was a legitimate opportunity for the light to annihilate the dark almost entirely within England.

Almost...

Between the Malfoys and the Blacks, there was enough influence - both within the political realm and within their vaults at Gringotts - to save the dark from total domination. Even if they could only save a couple handfuls of bloodlines from the clutches of the ministry and the Order, Lucius wanted to ensure they were the most powerful bloodlines available. He saw a reincarnation within the grim forecast of the dark, a new start with more powerful heirs and perhaps...an even more powerful leader someday in the future. From what Lucius witnessed at Godric's Hollow, it wasn't overreaching to suggest that the boy might behold such power. Not only had the child displayed a type of magic that he had never seen or heard of before, but he also had survived the killing curse. There had been a countless number of sacrifices in wizarding history, but never hd any type of magic saved someone from such a curse - not to mention a mere infant.

While Lucius wasn't powerful enough to sense magical auras (few were), he knew there was something special about this child as the prophecy foretold. As young as he was, he thought of the boy as a potential weapon for the dark, possibly even an heir to the dark lord himself if they could shape and mould into their own liking. Furthermore, he also saw the infant as a way of helping him achieve control in purifying the dark wizarding bloodlines of England. In this, he would need Cygnus' help, but he knew the old man would not be looking at the situation from the same perspective. He would not be eager to use his power and influence to save the prominent dark bloodlines of England, and as a result Lucius knew he would need leverage.

As far as the other dark wizarding families were concerned, few had the influence to circumvent the law. There were also individuals that no amount of fortune or intimidation could save, such as Greyback, Crouch Jr., or the late Dolohov among others. Bellatrix was on that list as well, but as far as Lucius knew, no one had identified her as the one responsible for the Longbottom's condition as of yet. He was optimistic that with the right amount money and the right amount of influence, and possibly the right insanity plea, he could get her off the hook – partially owing to the fact that she was indeed quite deranged.

After the long pause in which Bellatrix had become consumed with interest, Lucius decided to carry on.

"The magnitude of our station in the present predicament will ensure that we have a significant hand in reshaping the dark wizarding society of England. Many will flee and others will sacrifice everything they have to try and save themselves...Most will fail. The Ministry and the Order will be relentless, we can be assured of that. It is our responsibility, or should I say duty, to carry on the dark's cause. All in all," Lucius hesitated to find the right words before he concluded that it was time to be blunt about his intentions, "Your great-grandfather and I will have the power to control the destiny of the dark blooded families in England ... and will conceivably be able to determine those who will remain a part of it. However, Cygnus and I are not likely to see eye-to-eye in this. You know this as well as I do. The 'Potter' boy can be useful here -"

"What does the Potter child have anything-" Bella became furious again before she was interrupted.

"Because, Bella...the 'Potter' child is also a Black," he responded as if speaking to a four year old.

She froze in a heartbeat, "You swore-"

"Listen to me!" Lucius hissed in interruption. "No one will discover we have the boy! The boy is dead!"

Bellatrix rose from her chair and pointed at the child who was still under the trance Lucius had put him in, "Then who is this! And why is here! Why did Anth-"?

"This," Lucius began with a smirk "is Cyrus Rosier Black, son of Regulus Black... The last remaining heir to the Black family line."

Bellatrix's mouth hung wide open; she was beginning to understand what Lucius was up to - or at least part of what he was up to. Lucius needed Cygnus' cooperation if his grand plan was to succeed and the boy was his leverage. Bella had an impulse to follow Lucius on this. The Malfoy elder was sharp and cunning and she knew that he rarely failed in these types of political matters.

After taking a look at the child she inquired hesitantly, "How do you plan on using the boy?"

Lucius was glad she asked. He wasted no time and spoke rather casually considering the matters being discussed.

"There's only one thing that could possibly persuade Cygnus to side with a Malfoy on a matter such as this - an heir. When push comes to shove, Cygnus will remain loyal to the light without Lord Voldemort's presence. However, if I can gain custody of the child I would be in charge of his living arrangements. That would give me the power to negotiate with the man. He will be adamant that the boy grow up as a Black and under his supervision, not a Malfoy."

'Of course' Bellatrix mused to herself, 'cunning Lucius had a plan all along.' She knew that by pooling the Malfoy and Black resources they could ensure the survival of a number of powerful dark bloodlines. The ministry was as greedy as any institution in wizarding society and both the Malfoys and Blacks had more influence than anyone in the building. Bellatrix also knew that Lucius was right in regards to her great-grandfather's intentions, and though she was surprised to find herself agreeing with Lucius so readily it was obvious that they had very similar views. They were both dark supremacists through and through, they were devoted to the same cause, and both were motivated and attracted by power. This was a plan that she could adopt without many qualms once she thought about it, and Lucius was well aware of this.

She pierced him with her curious eyes and after being satisfied that Lucius was telling her the truth she asked coldly, "So what do you need me for then? It seems I'm of little use other than keeping my mouth shut."

"Not quite," Lucius replied quickly. "The boy's mother is your sister, Dorea Black. As you know she passed away only a couple of years ago in Moscow due to disease, where Regulus was stationed throughout parts of the war to recruit new members. Within a year everyone will be informed that Regulus had left his child in his cousin's custody… mine. I need you to address anyone that asks you of the boy and inform them that you were told of him in secrecy due to the chaotic times (many were born in secret during the war to protect their family, so this would not be a major shock to anyone). I would also like you to help hammer out the boy's living arrangements. Cygnus would sooner negotiate with a goblin than a Malfoy and I want to be sure that the boy is growing up under my supervision as well. We will share cust-"

Bella's eyebrows rose to her forehead and quickly interrupted, "What? Why in Merlin's name do you want to keep the half-breed filth? What further use do-"?

"That filth you refer to is responsible for our present scenario!" Lucius spat. "He slew the dark lord as an infant! He displayed magic we have never seen before!" He lowered his voice before plowing on, "If the prophecy is genuine, this boy could posses great power. Do you want the light to possess that power?"

Bellatrix looked insulted and snapped "Of course no-" but she couldn't finish before Lucius continued with his tirade.

"Then listen!" he went on in a hushed but urgent tone, "We witnessed a boy with great power tonight! A boy most likely suspected to be dead… as are his parents, and a boy with dark blood running in his veins. How many people, Bella, have had the opportunity to shape the potential leader of the dark's future to their liking? The order has both Dumbledore and Flamel alive and well, we cannot afford to waste any opportunities... and this boy is an opportunity! See it!" he hissed commandingly, "He is of your blood Bellatrix! Be proud of it!"

Bellatrix gaped at him as Lucius said it again - 'proud' - but she regarded him with sincerity this time. She was thinking, as much as she was devoted to her previous lord, a mere infant did indeed send him to his death. 'An infant...an infant that belongs to me... He is of my blood!' Bellatrix thought to herself as if she had only just found out. Her state of panic had resided since Voldemort's death and her senses were coming back to her now. Thoughts were racing through her mind.

'If Lucius is right... the boy could be powerful. And I doubt Lily Potter, the first charms master in a century was a mudblood anyway...she was only assumed one, wasn't she? The boy could very well be pure-' she snapped out her bigoted ramble at once and continued to herself in a more logical fashion, 'Still…If he is indeed anywhere near as powerful as the prophecy suggests the most Noble House of Black would be feared for generations!' she cackled to herself madly 'Lord Black'…It sounded so natural...

Lucius looked at her with an amused expression as she continued to stare into space, lost in her thoughts. What he would give to be a master of legillamency at times like this, he thought. From the looks of it, there was very little difference between the facial expressions of Harry - still under Lucius' trance - and Bella. He knew he had her on the hook. Power was the one thing that attracted and motivated Bellatrix Lestrange, and the boy exuded power.

"So do we have an agreement then? You will vouch that the boy is Dorea's child and assist me in negotiating with Cygnus?" Lucius asked calmly. He already knew what her answer would be, as her eyes were now on the child and looked as though she had just uncovered the Holy Grail.

A tiny sliver of maternity surfaced in Bella's soul as she turned to Lucius and responded dryly as if the question were rhetorical, "Of course Lucius... I'll help you; he is of my blood after all. Perhaps Sirius did do something right after all this time," she finished with a sweet touch and a crooked smile. She was starting to look forward to Harry's childhood. She could influence his life regardless of the outcome with Lucius and Cygnus. In regards to Lucius's talk of dwindling bloodlines though, she wasn't sure what to think. The light had always vastly outnumbered the dark and that disparity was only going to grow now. She didn't see a solution. 'Breed like rabbits?' she thought halfheartedly to herself in desperate humor. If the dark was in as much trouble as Lucius made it sound, which was probable, then their only chance in rising once again was to possess a power that the light could not match. It was a long shot, but the boy – the very one to bring upon their downfall - represented the only hope that they had.


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius was on the floor next to the stairway choking for breath. The venom that was coursing through his veins would kill him in less than half an hour. The thin magical vine snakes were wrapped tightly around him as they attempting to crush the life out of him

Moments after Lily's scream he heard an explosion and could smell a blazing fire. There was little he could do. He started to roll violently on the floor towards a corner of the wall to smash one of the snake's heads against its edge. When they hit, all four snakes hissed in aggravation and began to loosen slightly. Just as one of the snakes rose to dig into Sirius' flesh once again they vanished instantaneously in a puff of black smoke, marking the end of the curse.

He was free but could barely stand, noticing his heart rate gradually slowing down while his vision began to blur. With a great effort he managed to hold himself up and rest against the railway besides the staircase, yet his legs were still shaking and could hardly hold his own weight. Sirius stood there with his head down while blood continued dribbling down the side of his neck. He looked rather like a zombie swaying back and forth about to topple over again. Suddenly though, the door burst open and there stood Nicholas Flamel with ruby red robes billowing behind him. He was a tall slender man with a cheerful yet curious visage permanently carved onto his face by the wrinkles of age. A long elegant goatee flowed to his chest and wore shiny silver locks majestically flowing to his shoulders. His bushy eye brows rose scarcely as his hazel eyes hardened, whiffing the smoke coming from up stairs. His curious features instantlhy contorted into a rare expression of rage for the old man.

Flamel studied Sirius for a split second before bellowing to the aurors behind him, "Dawlish! Get him to Hogwarts, now! Williamson, guard the entrance! Kingsley! Come with me!"

The aurors followed Flamel upstairs as they cast bubblehead and anti-deflagrate charms so that they could move closer to the fire. As they were running down the long hallway Flamel cast a patronus that went zooming ahead of him and out of sight. He wanted to send word to Dumbledore of Sirius' condition. While believed it to be a snake bite at first sight he couldn't be positive - there being no time to examine the wound.

As soon as Flamel reached the room at the end of the hallway a tremendous force of water burst from the tip of his wand as he roared, "augmenti flumen!"

It was as if an entire river had exploded from his wand. Foaming white currents surged into the room before them as it became flooded with water, waves crashing forcefully against the walls while the white flames that had covered the entire room were doused.

He knew that the force of the water alone was enough to kill someone, but he thought there was a better chance of survival if the flames were put out immediately, as every other option remaining would have taken time that they did not have. When the fire was out Flamel flicked his wand and the water began receding as if someone had pulled a large plug from a drain in the middle of the room. Moments later the bodies of Harry Potter and his mother came rushing to their feet.

BREAK

Downstairs, Dawlish had scurried over to Sirius the moment Flamel ordered him to. He noticed a few splotches of black venom on his collar beneath the two-fanged wound left on his neck. Black venom was only produced inside the most lethal of magical serpents and Dawlish knew the man was probably already close to his end. He contemplated on what to do. Flamel had told him to go to Hogwarts but he knew Madam Pompfrey couldn't save him now. The only person that could possibly help him now was Dumbledore, Dawlish thought. Certainly he would know what to do.

Taking Sirius' wrist tightly in his hand – knowing there was no wards left on the cottage -he apparated immediately, emitting a small 'pop,' as they vanished to Hogsmeade.

The quaint wizarding village they appeared in was snuggled in-between a wintry white valley of several mammoth sized mountains. One could see the pearly white streak of road that separated the main shops from a distance, being almost large enough to be a runway for muggle airplanes but covered with witches and wizards robed in a variety of colors. The smoke exhausted from the chimneys could also be seen from miles away but the strong disillusionment and muggle repellent charms had kept the community safe and unnoticed for well over nine centuries now.

Once they had arrived, Dawlish levitated Sirius' body and began running as fast as he could. It was nearing 11 p.m on Halloween and there were still a number of people on the streets. People stared and some shrieked when they saw Dawlish sprint past them with Sirius' nearly unconscious body close behind. A few were obviously curious as to whether it was some kind of Halloween prank. If it had been Mad eye-moody or someone more familiar to the public eye no one would have second guessed what the man was doing, but as it was not a soul was of any assistance at all.

As they were nearing the road from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, Dawlish saw that Sirius' eyes were half shut and fighting to stay open. His heart would fail shortly and there was no way of telling how long he had. Dawlish had already been sprinting for a half mile and the road to Hogwarts was at least another mile long. He had never run so far and so fast in his life and as the man finally approached the castle he almost collapsed due to exhaustion. He felt sudden warmth and a slight prickle over his skin as he stumbled past the wards, looking up to see Albus Dumbledore at the entrance with a stingray patronus floating at his side. As it puffed from existence the headmaster came running to meet the two men.

"Jonathan!" Dumbledore's eyes widened as they lost its' twinkle immediately upon seeing Sirius' condition. "What's happened?"

"S-snake!" Dawlish cried frantically in exhaustion.

Dumbledore looked at Sirius again, who now had one eye nearly shut and other half-open with a slight wide mouthed smile as if he saw something dreamy before him. He was no longer functioning, only holding on and fighting against what seemed in his eyes to be a peaceful death that was gently persuading him to let go. The headmaster instantly noticed the wound that had now stopped bleeding but was covered in a shiny black puss, as if someone had painted over the gash with tar. He knew there was only one hope.

Dumbledore's presence expedited the process tenfold since the headmaster of Hogwarts was able to apparate within the school's wards. He took Dawlish's hand, who then took Sirius's in a firm grasp, and with a sudden 'pop' they were in the headmaster's office. The silver and brass magical trinkets displayed in his spacious office were scattered about the room as usual, creating the image one might expect from a scientist's laboratory. There were also two arching staircases that flanked either side of Dumbledore's ancient oak desk, which lead up to a small observatory with several small mahogany cabinets. The furnishings in the room were neatly arranged and his pensive, along with his glass vials of memories, were off to the side near Fawkes.

There wasn't a second to lose and the old man dashed up one of the staircases on each side of his desk. He moved astonishingly fast for a man of his age and once at the top of the staircase he approached one of the smaller cabinets and lifted his wand. He began muttering and slashing his wand in several directions to lift the wards he had placed on it until he heard a barely audible 'click.' The cabinet made a loud creaking sound as Dumbledore pulled the handle, sounding like it hadn't been opened in ages.

There were about a dozen dusted glass vials on the single shelf with different color liquids, sludges, and whirling gases inside each of them and none looked particularly pleasant. In front of the glass vials, however, was a miniature looking treasure chest that was made of crystal and had gold linings with exotic looking birds painted on its surface, being just big enough to place small jewelery inside of. He took about ten seconds to stare at the box before making a choice. For Dumbledore, the decision wasn't as clear as day.

Albus glared at the miniature chest with pools of reflection in his eyes, knowing it was the only way to save the man. He looked over at Fawkes momentarily and realized his time was running out, making it difficult to think clearly. Despite his grandfatherly appearance, morality wasn't the driving force behind all of the man's decisions. Perhaps in his grand plan he had virtuous thoughts of right versus wrong and glory versus evil, but overall he was nearly just as ruthless as the dark lords that he lead his high minded and righteous campaigns against. Just like Grindenwald, he believed that power was the path to victory. As a result, he still hadn't given up his search of the other two hallows - the cloak and the stone. Furthermore, while he didn't torture or intimidate his followers, he was capable of using the same type of cruel manipulation that Lord Voldemort himself used. Behind all of Dumbledore's grace, his immaculate robes of sweeping justice and the twinkling eyes of genuine incorruptibility, there was a man that had his own dreams, aspirations, and flaws.

In the miniature chest before him was a vial of phoenix tears about the size of his pinky. The tears of a phoenix could be used for healing, but they were also used for a variety of other extraordinary purposes. It was rumored that with the right amount it could be used in potions to add years to one's life, make one magically stronger for an extended period of time, or permanently allow animagous' to morph into magical creatures. Phoenix tears were so rare, however, that no one truly knew the extent of their powers. The magical birds were known as 'light' creatures and it was estimated that fewer than 300 phoenix's existed in the world, and had existed since creation. One of the few definitive facts that the wizarding world knew about the bird was that it could neither die nor reproduce. They couldn't be captured either. Wizards had dedicated lifetimes to catching one of the legendary birds but no one had ever succeeded, as the birds were able to simply apparate in a flame regardless of the type of wards used to prevent it from doing so. As a result, being able to claim phoenix feathers, and particularly genuine phoenix tears, was quite a feat in wizarding society. In fact, only two people in history were known to have kept the bird as a familiar. Merlin himself of course had a Phoenix, among other magical creatures, while Dumbledore inherited Fawkes. The Phoenix had been kept within his bloodline for centuries and it was believed that like Merlin, one of Dumbeldore's ancestors was simply 'chosen,' and the bird had remained loyal the family ever since.

Dumbledore knew that Sirius' time was coming to an end and he was well aware that Fawkes wouldn't shed any genuine tears over the matter. In the days that James and Sirius attended school together, Fawkes was a main target for their pranks when they got tired with Severus. Fawkes didn't seem like a majestic and legendary bird when they were younger, but more of a silly looking goose with exotic pink and red feathers. To them, the fact that it was an intelligent and emotional creature that couldn't die and would instantly heal itself made it a perfect target. The fact that it belonged to their headmaster, who seemingly had a perfectly organized life where few things went wrong, and wouldn't seriously punish James Potter even if he had managed to set Hogwarts on fire, only made it better.

In all, Fawkes wasn't going to budge in order to help Sirius, and he certainly wasn't going to shed a tear over his predicament. Dumbledore looked at Fawkes as though he was disappointed with the bird and turned back to his crystal chest. He had planned on using the vial to get information from a necromancer in Egypt in regards to the whereabouts of the resurrection stone. It had taken him years just to fill the small vial before him and was probably worth more than the Malfoy Manor itself. Besides Merlin he doubted anyone had ever fathomed such a quantity of phoenix tears before. However, if he were to save Sirius' life, he knew that he would be instrumental in defeating the dark. As a Black, Sirius could potentially 'reform' and join the dark, attaining valuable information for the order. Sirius was one of the few members fighting for the light with dark blood and his death would be a heavy blow. By saving his life though, Sirius would probably feel indebted to Dumbledore, who desperately needed a spy within the dark's ranks.

Dawlish could have sworn he heard a sigh as Dumbledore reached for the crystal box in front of him. Dumbledore hadn't been at his cabinet for more than ten seconds but a myriad of thoughts had flashed before his mind. He was slow and hesitant in taking out the vial when he had reached Sirius, going over his decision yet again. Finally though, he reaffirmed to himself that losing Sirius was not an option, he was indispensable while the vial could eventually be replenished. Before uncorking it, he looked over at Fawkes once again with an expression that told the bird he was sorry, and then whipped his head around to start examining Sirius' wound. The wound had opened and spread to the size of a baseball with shiny black puss covering every inch. Even if Fawkes had miraculously cried his eyes out, it probably wouldn't have been nearly enough anyway. Sirius' right eye was shut and his left showed only a sliver of life. His chest was still moving, but only to the discernible eye.

Dumbledore took the vial and placed it over the wound. He was fast but careful not to use anymore than he had to. The instant the tears made contact with the shiny black puss, Sirius' skin began to sizzle and light steam began to rise. Sirius gasped in pain as if someone had just placed a hot iron on his neck, feeling the skin mend itself together as the jet black venom exited the wound and trickled down his neck. The new skin that Dumbledore and Dolohov could see growing before their eyes left no wound trace of any kind. After about a full minute, Sirius' wound had disappeared completely and all that was left was the black venom stained on his collar.

Dumbledore closed the vial and started to examine the man. It appeared as if someone had spilt ink onto his neck but there was no wound scar whatsoever. His eyes were now closed but his chest started to rise and fall deeply. Evidently he was fine and had only passed out from shock.

Just as Dumbledore was calling Madam Pompfrey from the floo network to take Sirius down to the hospital wing, Flamel came walking into the office with a very somber look on his face. He looked like he had just finished mourning.

Albus turned around from the fireplace to face his partner in war.

"Ah Nicholas, I'm glad you are here. We've just finished healing Mr. Black, but as you can see... he is still recovering," he said in pleasant tone as if nothing had. There was absolutely no urgency etched across his face, just sincere curiosity with a touch of jolliness. It was Dumbledore's subconscious way of displaying superiority in such times. The world around him wasn't made up of equals but of pawns in a risky game called 'Life,' where mere chess pieces were used to advance one's interests to ultimately win the game. It wasn't that the headmaster didn't have a good heart, he was simply detached and 'above' the interactions and follies of the lesser mortals surrounding him. He had grand visions and aspirations for the world, and nothing was more important to him than making those visions a reality. He discerned between 'good' and 'evil,' but he didn't apply those rules of morality to himself. Furthermore, his distinction between good and evil was tainted with bred-in-the-bone bigotries towards intelligent creatures he grew up fearing and unalterable opinions on magic his blood was not compatible with. To him, it was not acceptable for werewolves and vampires to mix with the light blooded wizarding community. In his opinion, he considered Remus Lupin's case special and regarded what he did for the man – letting him attend Hogwarts - as an act of charity. He wouldn't allow just any werewolf into Hogwarts after all, and probably wouldn't have helped the man to begin with if he hadn't been friends with James Potter. Lastly, he was a hypocrite when it came to being open minded towards magic. His old saying that, "It is our choices that show us who we truly are, not our abilities," only applied to the circles he deemed worthy. To him, the dark was automatically ill-intentioned or 'evil,' which rendered them dark and their magic illegal. This was simply the way Albus Dumbledore grew up thinking, and he had never changed.

Flamel walked over to the chair in front of the headmaster's desk and sat down without saying anything. He was waiting for Dumbledore to ask him for a lemon drop when Madam Pompfrey came in through the fireplace and gasped when she saw Sirius lying unconscious on a cot that Dumbledore had conjured.

"D-Dumble-" she started before Albus quickly interrupted.

"We do not have to explain now Poppy. Please bring Sirius down to the infirmary and notify me when he awakes," he commanded kindly.

"Very well then" she responded hesitantly. Madam Pompfrey levitated Sirius's body and briskly walked out of Dumbledore's office.

"Now then..." Dumbledore continued pleasantly as he sat down in front of Flamel. "Lemon drop?"

Dumbledore reached out to offer one but noticed Flamel shooting him a grave stare that told him it was not the time for his niceties. He withdrew his offer slowly, disappointed that no one ever wanted to indulge in his muggle candies, and waited for Flamel to explain the occurrences of the evening. Normally he would take charge and question those in front of his desk, but Flamel was one of the few people he regarded as an equal. It didn't stop Dumbledore from trying to use the man as best he could, but he had a greater respect for him as a person and the value that he provided to the light's cause.

Flamel, on the other hand, was a type of man that could see through Dumbledore's manipulations. As a result, Albus didn't even attempt lies or half-truths with him. Instead he attempted honest persuasion, or at least to the best of his ability. He paid Nicholas numerous visits many years ago trying to persuade him to join the war when he had already refused on a number of occasions. As a last ditch effort he sent a letter to Flamel (using a muggle quote that he found inspiring) in an attempt to appeal to his heart and morality, writing, "The hottest circles in hell are reserved for those who remain neutral in times of great moral crisis." Knowing that it would pull on his guilt, he added that his efforts would save a number of lives by helping to swiftly end the war.

A week later – as expected - Flamel showed up at his office and agreed to help, believing that by working together they would indeed be able to defeat Lord Voldemort and save lives in the process.

Once Flamel had joined the cause, however, Dumbledore turned his attention to the Hallows and let Nicholas lead the aurors. Albus rarely fought against the death-eaters anymore, finding the hallows had consumed most of his efforts and he knew Flamel would never walk away from the cause. Now that he had joined he had an obligation to the aurors that he lead and couldn't just abandon them. He would be remembered forever as the once great wizard who tucked his tail between his legs and left during the climax of the greatest wizarding war in centuries. Though the aurors outnumbered the death eaters, they would not be able to stop them without a leader that could adequately defend them from Voldemort in battle. Essentially, Dumbledore had pulled him into the brunt of the fighting and took off in quest of the hallows, only giving orders regarding the war from the safety of Hogwarts. This is what the man preferred, being the powerful hand behind the scenes where he was able to control, manipulate, and alter the situations and opportunities that presented themselves - all while he pursued his ultimate goal.

Flamel, whose eyes were glossed with unshed tears, wasn't able to remit his guilty conscience and he felt that he should have been able to help Lily Potter and her son. He viewed them as people, people that wouldn't have had to suffer if he had been faster. Unlike Dumbledore, be wasn't concerned with the 'grand plan.' As far as he knew, his job was to save lives from a mad man.

Finally he spoke softly, "They're gone Albus. The mad man... he... he got to them before I could make it...I'm so sorry."

Flamel began to choke. He knew that he couldn't have done anymore to help, but he still felt sincere guilt. It was one of the reasons he had avoided the war to begin with, he was so deeply in touch with humanity that fighting was the last thing he wanted in life. Many believed him to be power hungry for immortality since he was the creator and owner of the Sorcerer's Stone, but this was the furthest depiction from the truth. The truth was that the man was a genius, much more so than Albus. Nicholas was more concerned with the metaphysical and the interactions between nature and living beings than grand political ideals. He wasn't sure that people were able to cooperate to the degree that political idealists such as Dumbledore hoped for, and Flamel had dealt with all kinds of individuals in his era - from dark lords of ancient times to the greatest mages the world had ever seen. The only political ideal that he was truly convinced of was that humanely devised political rule would inevitably result in destruction and war, and that the masses had a right to avoid the suffering caused by few. He was over 650 years old and to him Voldemort was merely another mad man bent on destruction and war - and he referred to him as such.

Nicholas Flamel didn't believe there was anything particular in his life's work, which was noted by himself as being "the pursuit of an intellectual journey through time." When he was 164 years of age, old even for a wizard, his mind was still as active as ever and as curious as a newborn. His home library might have been the greatest collection of wizarding books in all of Europe, yet the man still felt starved of knowledge. This was his reason for studying alchemy to begin with. His mind was not yet satisfied and, therefore, would simply not allow him to quit. When he wasn't reading, he was either inventing magical objects or spells, fixing or studying a magical instrument, writing a book, or fighting the 'mad man' that forced so many to suffer. According to him, his mind would never allow him to be at peace. Every fresh step and sound was a discovery, revealing something new and deeper. It wasn't possible for him to resist even the slightest of curiosities, and this was the driving force behind his creation of the stone so many centuries ago - his insatiable wonder for the world.

At Flamel's words, Dumbledore closed his eyes and inhaled deeply until he could confirm that he had heard the man's words correctly. Silently exhaling in confirmation of what he already suspected to be true, he spoke to in a quiet and dejected tone.

"So it is true... I had feared the worst." Albus shook his head as he spoke and then look into Flamel's eyes and decided to offer words of encouragement. "I know this is... a heartbreaking matter my friend," he was about to say 'a blow to the cause' but decided better of it, "but you cannot beat yourself up over this. There will be any others that will meet the same fate at the end of Voldemort's wand if we do not continue to act. Many lives have been lost...Yes… but many have been saved as well Nicholas... It is... unfortunate that not everyone can be saved."

Flamel, not reciprocating in any manner at all, did not care for Dumbledore's words. He examined one of the headmaster's instruments on top of his desk and noticed that in all his time he had never seen it working in his presence. It was a whirling silver globe that levitated in place. To most it would appear in fine condition, although most people didn't really know what it was.

The swirling globe changed shapes when people spoke and indicated their intentions. If the speakers intentions were sinister, the sphere would transform into a prism. Or for example it would morph into a triangular shape if the speaker was curious, vibrate if the speaker was lying, and transform into a blue flame if the speaker had any unspoken intentions. There were many shapes it could take but he had never seen it take any other shape than a sphere while he was in Dumbledore's presence. He wasn't sure if the headmaster only kept it that way in his presence or if it was always like that way and he just wasn't aware of how to fix it. Flamel didn't really care either way though. He took the instrument and tapped it with his wand twice and muttered something under his breath before Dumbledore could say anything. The sphere levitated in Flamel's hand and morphed into what looked like a sea urchin as Dumbledore let out a barely audible sound of surprise.

"Sorry for startling" Nicholas said quickly. "I just noticed your propositum-morpher wasn't working. I took the liberty of fixing it myself...I hope you don't mind," he said in an innocent tone, knowing it would speed up the conversation and allow him to get home. He didn't like being in the presence of the manipulative fool for longer than he had to be after all.

"Of course not," Dumbledore said, clearly startled. He didn't even think Flamel would know what that device was considering how rare they were. Then again, Dumbledore thought himself to be a keeper of many rare and unique secrets, sometimes forgetting the knowledge and wisdom of others.

"I merely... wasn't aware of how to repair it. Thank you," he quickly lied. Dumbledore knew he slipped when he had said it and couldn't believe himself. He had become so used to the instrument not working in Flamel's presence he wasn't prepared to catch his lie. The sea urchin shape instantly morphed back into a sphere and began to vibrate. Dumbledore could have hit himself.

Flamel was only amused at the incident. "It doesn't matter Albus," he stated offhandedly. "I came here to tell you what I saw, that is all."

Dumbledore looked relieved when Flamel continued speaking and told him what had happened when he and the aurors arrived. There wasn't much to the story other than the white flames, Sirius, the bodies of Lily and Harry Potter, and how he quickly glimpsed three indiscernible figures in Harry's room from the window as he broke the wards. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows when Flamel mentioned white flames – not ever having heard of such magic before. Flamel knew vaguely what the white flames were but went over this bit of information with a puzzled look on his face, hoping the headmaster wouldn't ask him what he knew. It didn't matter any longer with the boy dead anyway and Albus certainly didn't need to know about any more about ancient prophecies and powers than he already did. He was too meddling as it was.

Dumbledore stared into space pondering over what Flamel had just told him. He looked up and asked cautiously, "Did you notice anything else... peculiar?"

The instrument transformed into a triangular shape of genuine curiosity and Flamel simply shook his head in earnest. The only sign of anything strange were the white flames and Nicholas wasn't about to elaborate on that. His great grandfather had told him stories that were passed down to him through the generations of their family about the beginning of the magical world. Over the years he came to believe the stories to be mythical. The magical world was once said to be ruled by darkness and lead by a man so dark himself that he was able to manipulate and control the shadows of the world. The stories implied that dark creatures were uniquely attracted to the man and would follow, respect, and even protect him at all costs. His great-grandfather told him that he could wield a special white flame among other magic, and that he and his followers had lived in a fortress larger than the eye could see. They referred to him only as 'my Lord.' To Flamel, however, the stories of creation in the magical world now seemed so shrouded in mystery that he believed it to be unlikely that he would ever uncover what really happened.

When saw the white flames at the Potter's cottage he acted impulsively at first and put the fire out as quickly as he could. As soon as the water had left his wand though, he realized what he had seen. Now that he was in Dumbledore's office and was able to think it through, he wasn't entirely sure if he could be upset with himself for being unable to stop Voldemort. It was still possible that the stories he heard when he was younger were real, that such a magic did exist after all. He knew the mad man couldn't wield such magic, it had to have been the boy. It was a frightful thought for Nicholas. If the prophecy were true it could have meant terrible things for the magical world, Flamel thought. When considering the fact that the only man to have ever possessed this magic might have led the world into the darkest ages it had ever seen, he was much more comfortable not having to worry about him. He was still saddened by the deaths that occurred, but he was now almost relieved that such a potential threat no longer existed. The fact that it was smothered by the present dark lord himself was even slightly amusing.

Dumbledore spoke again upon seeing Flamel shake his head. "Very well then...if that is all Nicholas, I don't wish to use anymore of your time," he said in a quiet and confident manner. Just as Flamel was getting up to walk to the fireplace to leave though, the sphere ignited into a blue flame. Flamel put on a crooked smile, moved towards the fire place and said in a kind but stern voice, "Leave the Longbottom child out of this Albus. I am warning you." Without another word, he threw a handful of green powder into the fire and said, "Flamel's Orchard."

Flamel disappeared and Dumbledore sighed heavily once again as he stood from his desk and began to pace. He was a little insulted by Flamel's remark. Still, he wasn't aware of the true fate of Voldemort yet, and believed someone would be needed as a symbol of hope for the light - particularly now after the tragedy at Godric's Hollow. The entire Potter bloodline - known as fierce and powerful protectors of the light's cause for decades now - had been wiped out. Pettigrew hadn't been seen for weeks and he knew that wizarding England would be enraged if the Potter's traitor were not apprehended. He had few options at his disposal now. He couldn't use Remus as a scapegoat because Flamel and Sirius would never forgive him for it, and Flamel had just given him a direct warning in regards to Longbottom. He was in a bind. The light had been handed a big loss and there was nothing he could do to salvage any of it. Dumbledore knew of only one thing to do. It was the only thing left to do. The dark had to be crushed in England, which could not happen while he was in the shadows. Voldemort would have to be disposed of and his followers locked up or buried six feet under with their lord.


	4. Chapter 4

_* Most of this chapter is introductory to the rest of the story, please review.  
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**Chapter Four, Part One: Explanations**

**November 27, 1985**

It had been just over four years since the tragic fall of the Dark Lord and Dark wizarding England had sunken to its lowest depths in history. It had taken just over a year for the Ministry of Magic and the Order to realize Voldemort's demise. They weren't quite sure whether he had died or perhaps fallen extremely ill from disease or poisoning. However, many believed that Harry Potter, the 'chosen one' had saved wizarding England from destruction on that Halloween night. There weren't many ways of explaining Voldemort's absence, he had not been seen since the tragedy at Godric's Hollow when he met with the prophecy child face to face. The public didn't know exactly what had occurred but wanted to believe that there was a hero behind it all, one that had finally slayed the Dark Lord and saved wizarding England from a reign of terror. Statues and commemorations of the chosen one throughout the country were already erected noting the Potter's sacrifice in appreciation.

As festivities across England were erupting in celebration Dumbledore had appropriately, albeit reluctantly, sacrificed his image as the Light wizarding leader and named Pettigrew the one responsible for the Potter's sacrifice. Even four years after the fall of the Dark Lord the public was still fuming at the lack of justice being served. No one wanted less than Peter Pettigrew's head on a platter. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was infuriated that Dumbledore had once again dismissed the ministry's authority and named a man they would likely never catch as the one responsible for the horrors of Godric's Hollow. It wasn't so much the political matter that bothered Cornelius, but he did not enjoy being publicly acknowledged as the Headmaster's puppet. By constantly going over Cornelius's head in public matters such as this though, that exact image was perpetuated by the Daily Prophet and the rest of the wizarding press. Still, there was nothing that was going to stop him from forming an alliance with Dumbledore, regardless of their squabbles.

The Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix knew they had to create a more powerful coalition in the years after Lord Voldemort's fall in order to attain their goals. They had a commitment to the total fall of Darkness in wizarding England and thought themselves to be purging their homeland of a race that was bent on anarchy and destruction. Their mission was to become the pure Light wizarding community they had always aspired for and render themselves entirely free of Darkness. It was a tireless effort but in the end, after all the raids and arrests, the trials, the acquiring of search permits from various countries, and the slaughtering of those who would not go to Azkaban without a fight, they had still failed to meet their lofty expectations. They most certainly didn't come up empty handed, but they didn't completely wipe out the Dark forces either.

Lucius Malfoy had been prepared for the Ministry and the Order from the moment he took Cyrus home four yeas ago. He knew better than anyone what would happen after the Light discovered Lord Voldemort's death and started to make preparations for the Dark's 'reconstruction,' as he put it. His first order of business was to have Bellatrix negotiate with Cygnus over Cyrus's living arrangements in exchange for the old man's influence in the Dark's reconstruction.

Lucius trusted Bella in this matter because he knew that she had an interest in the boy's childhood. This was paramount, not because he thought there might be a sliver of maternity left inside her shattered soul, but because after Lord Voldemort's fall her new life's mission became the 'creation' of her blood's prodigy. Her life's dedication to Lord Voldemort and the Dark's cause was now refocused on raising a child that she believed was destined to become a leader for their cause. He was the symbol of power and hope that the Dark desperately needed at the time.

It was Bellatrix's newfound dedication that Lucius needed. One of the positive attributes her deranged mind lent her was a savage and relentless determination to succeed in whatever mission she undertook, and her new mission was Cryus Black, not Lord Voldemort's orders. He didn't precisely know how her mind worked, many regarded her as a raving lunatic after all, but he knew some of the basic guidelines. Where many would return empty handed and prepare for punishment from their Lord, she did not understand that failure was a given alternative in life whether she was fixing her hair or wiping out an opponent's bloodline. She was an anarchist at heart but possessed a maddening determination, and as a result her mind gave her liberties that other's did not. Rules and established laws of civilized society simply did not process in her mind as a serious matter. Bellatrix was best described as a devilish child... an immature, playful, possessive, and destructive imp that was hell-bent on insatiable rage and a rule of darkness. She had an ego and a sense of aristocratic superiority as well, and she absolutely reveled in the praise of being her Lord's right hand woman.

Lucius was beginning to see why she was so valuable to Lord Voldemort. If her Lord had asked her to retrieve Merlin's beard from the grave she would have not only rejoiced in the fact that _she_ was chosen for the honor, but would likely not have rested or returned to her Lord until the mission was done. She would have burnt down all of Hogsmeade if it had been necessary, and it was this type of infinite determination that Lucius wanted in negotiating with Cygnus. He likely could have negotiated with the man himself, but he knew of Cygnus's hatred for him all too well. There was no need to anger the man further than he already would be and it wasn't a virtual guarantee that he would agree either. Lucius decided it was best if he stayed away from him altogether.

Months later, though Cygnus was disgusted by the fact that he would be instrumental in the survival of the Dark forces after years of war, Lucius's confidence in Bellatrix finally paid off. About two years after Lord Voldemort's fall, the Ministry and the Order had apprehended the vast majority of death eaters in England. They also managed to capture most of the individuals that fled to various countries in Europe, or at least the ones from which they were able to obtain a search permit. However, there was still a select network of families that were able to be saved by Lucius. Bellatrix had played her role magnificently, and while Cygnus was rather disappointed that his great-granddaughter would use the family's last remaining heir as a negotiating tool he wasn't particularly surprised either. She was a cruel 'negotiator' and delivered a harsh ultimatum almost immediately upon arriving and left him to think it over. He would either accept a list of families that she and Lucius proposed and ensure their safety in select regions that he had connections in, as well as donate a large sum of money to chosen members on the Wizengamot in England or never lay eyes on the last remaining heir for the Black family.

Cygnus took his time with the decision but contemplated little on what he'd do in the end. He knew where his heart lie and wasn't ever going to give up the family's last heir. The man had repeatedly acted against his principles in life and while this was one of the more difficult situations he'd ever been put it in, he accepted the terms of agreement 'for the sake of the child,' as he would put it. They would split custody of Cyrus, Cygnus would take him for Spring and most of Summer while the boy would live with Lucius for the rest of the year. Bellatrix agreed to all of this as long as she kept him on the weekends and was able to stay at the Malfoy Manor while Cyrus lived there. Lucius wasn't particularly joyous about this particular aspect in the agreement but accepted nonetheless, angering the woman was never a wise decision after all.

Sleeping over at another's house was hardly a cause for concern for Rudolphus and Bellatrix. They would still live together on occasion because they were married, but the marriage was arranged by their parents and once it was found out that Bellatrix wasn't able to produce an heir, both of them dismissed any idea of family they ever had. Both of them would sleep with whoever and wherever they pleased and never had any disputes over it, though there weren't many that dared to venture a night with Bellatrix Lestrange anyway. Most men were rather frightened of the woman. She was powerful, violent, highly unpredictable, and probably insane, very few wizards were willing to pursue anything intimate with her because of this. For Bella, the situation was both amusing and disappointing. She enjoyed frightening people by her mere presence, but for all her lunacy and blood thirst she emanated a mischievous and lustful sexual nature. She didn't wish to scare _everyone_ off and decided it was necessary to take a more aggressive stance when satisfying her 'love life.'

After the end of negotiations Lucius was pleased with how events unfolded. He was aware that Cygnus would die soon anyway and he only intended on sharing custody with the old man for five or six years of his childhood. However, the arrangement didn't even last that long. Cyrus was now six years old, almost seven, and he had only spent four years under the living arrangements that Bellatrix and Cygnus had agreed upon when the man passed away. Cygnus and Harry never had a particularly close relationship with each other, mainly because Lucius and Bella vilified the old man before he set eyes on him, but he was able to accomplish what he had wanted anyway. Cygnus never planned in swaying Harry from the Dark's cause because he knew the boy would grow up in Darkness anyway and had little chance of succeeding in the long term. The eldest Black wasn't necessarily a person that one could easily come to respect because his principles were negotiable, but he was wise and able to discern the battles that he would win and the ones he would likely lose.

While he was a weak principled man, there were still simple modicums of discipline and knowledge that could help Cyrus on his way to the top of the Black family. The Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black wasn't bullheaded or stubborn and he chose his fights and allies cautiously. In all, he didn't set himself up for failure in a world of cold blooded manipulation or enter battles he couldn't directly influence the outcome of. Cygnus knew the type of ruthless world that the boy would grow up in and he wanted his heir to succeed in whatever he chose to do. Above everything, however, he wanted Cyrus to have a legacy of his own and a streak of independence to the degree that he could. He was very blunt about the world he would grow up in and his teachings were almost entirely apolitical and centered around strategy. Ultimately, the goal for him was to ensure the boy's survival as his own master and as the Head of the Black family. His biggest fear was that the boy would grow into another Lucius Malfoy or die for a cause that was either unattainable or the result of being brainwashed.

When Cygnus died, Cyrus felt the loss but it didn't effect him to the degree that one might expect after a family member's death. He was never close to the man and was taught to stay away from muggle-lovers such as him. Still, he couldn't help but feel that the eldest Black had affected him in someway, even if it was only a faint sense of remembrance. The man had nearly doubled the Black family fortune in his life but his success came at a great cost, and this is what Cyrus recalled most about him. He had independent ideals but believed that success was derived by a level-headed, calculated, and cautious approach that was devoid of moral obligation or principled valor. It wasn't an honorable perspective to exercise in life but Cyrus had come to subconsciously accept parts of it as truth and it restrained his impulsive and reckless behavior that he inherited from both of his fathers.

The details of Cygnus's negotiations were settled and agreed upon only a year after the raids and trials conducted by the Ministry had begun. Between both Malfoy and Black, they were able to save sixty-four Dark wizarding families in total while nine others were able to bribe and weasel their way out on their own. Originally there was just over 300 Dark wizarding families in England, while the Light numbered well over 500.

After the trials only twenty-two of the sixty-four Dark wizarding families were found guilty in trial and had to be hidden in other countries. Several powerful officials connected with the Malfoy and Black families from Russia, Germany, and Romania agreed to protect the 'bloodlines' sent their way. These countries were the three leading regions that Dark wizarding families from England fled to and were known as the elite Dark wizarding countries of Europe. They were still outnumbered by the Light, but they were competitive. Many families in these countries attempted to save those who fled from England, but without the proper protection offered by the right officials very few made it through the years undetected. Fifty-one known Dark wizarding families remained in England and probably around another thirty within Russia, Germany, and Romania once the dust settled.

Lucius correctly estimated that around eighty Dark wizarding bloodlines in total had survived the Light's destruction of the Dark. The vast majority of the families that were left made up a group that he and Bellatrix considered to be the most powerful Dark bloodlines in England. Lucius was quite pleased with himself at the end of the day, he had managed to save many more than he had expected and had also been able to give seventeen Dark families a lesser sentence at Nurmengard. It was an exhausting effort but the Dark had not been completely obliterated and felt it was mostly thanks to his doing. The only fault he could really find with himself was his inability to rescue the children of those that were lost during the war.

Children of the unfortunate parents that were either slaughtered, kissed, or arrested were sent to Light wizarding families that believed it was their duty was to educate, adopt, and instill in them proper Light wizarding values. Essentially, they were meant to take them in as one of their own and cleanse the Darkness from their blood. Most of these children were separated from their friends if they were old enough to have any and sent to different countries and families throughout Europe that were affiliated with the Light. A few children were able to stay within the country, but most were newborns and infants. Overall, more than two-thirds of the Dark bloodlines of England had been incarcerated or slaughtered after the war and their descendants were now being brainwashed and transformed.

**BREAK..**...

Cyrus was sleeping in the comforts of luxury on a spine chilling Saturday morning in mid December. His room was of a grand size entirely unnecessary for a six year old and had an interior of dark grey stone to match the Lestrange's Manor. There were antique carpets and furniture spread elegantly across the room in emerald and silver trim along with a large marble fireplace in the far corner gracing the boy's personal library. His four poster bed was magnificent in size and was covered in sheets of plush green satins and linens that were decorated with silver serpents animatedly slithering over the boy. The small child appeared to be somewhere in the ocean of covers, sheets, and pillows but wasn't easily identified. His room was appointed with a personal house elf as well as a dive pool on his balcony, it was meant to be fit for a Prince.

As was proper with all aristocratic Dark pureblooded families, their children were raised in adherence to strict schedules and tutoring in all the basic non-magical subjects that any child would be taught. Cryus had just completed his non-magical studies and he was approaching age seven, the age that Dark wizarding boys and girls entered a new phase in their lives. The Light traditionally waited until their children went to Hogwarts before teaching their own any magic, but the Dark believed it to be a senseless precautionary reason that only applied to the weak. Cryus was coming of age in Dark wizarding society where magic and basic political conviction needed to be learned and was already expected to be established on some elementary level. His new lessons would be taught by family or close friends and rather than learning to read, write, and preform arithmetic, Cryus would now be learning the dark arts, potions, transfiguration, and charms to begin with.

Bellatrix and Lucius, along with Rudolphus and a number of Dark families such as the Parkinsons, Notts, Carrows, Flints, and Zabinis among many others, were all ecstatic that the boy had finally come of age. Cyrus was a marvel to them all, he had already shown an astounding aptitude for magic at an early age and his accidental magic alone was breathtaking. He had turned himself into a black gaseous form at age five during an incident in which Lucius had locked his broom away for flying in the house and shattering a precious family heirloom that couldn't be repaired. While Cyrus was desperately trying to get through the door his broom was behind he transformed into a shapeless stream of smoke and went underneath the door before reappearing as himself. When Lucius had seen this, he didn't only let him keep the broom but forgot about the family heirloom all together. In all the man's life, he had never even dreamed of preforming such magic and wasn't even aware that it was possible. The white flame from Halloween still hadn't reappeared throughout his childhood but by his present age he had already learned how to wandlessly repel and attract small objects. Furthermore, he was able to form a mysterious ball of warm light in his hand that no one seemed to be able to identify. His ability to preform these magics without a wand was something very few adult wizards were capable of and caused quite a stir in some circles. Anyone with the privilege of seeing him grow up were absolutely captivated by the child. Word of his capabilities spread like wildfire and within the fifty-one Dark families in England every adult and child had heard something about Cryus Black. He represented a desperately needed hope for Dark wizarding families all over Great Britain and his childhood was quickly becoming a story whispered among all relatives and friends of the Dark's cause

The boy had many of the Black features and the Dark wizarding community didn't think twice of his heritage when Lucius and Bellatrix introduced him as Regulus Black's son. Lucius didn't want Cyrus to walk around under a glamour charm every time he step foot outside as a child and thankfully everything but his scar made that possible. Dolohov also carried the scar as a dopplenger and Flamel saw this when he arrived at Godric's Hollow four yeas ago. Lucius covered the mark on his forehead by a simple blood magic spell that wouldn't reveal itself unless Cyrus preformed the counter-charm. Lastly, while Sirius and the rest of the Blacks had brown eyes, Olivia Walburga had dark green eyes herself and was the mother of Regulus and Sirius. Here eyes weren't nearly as bright as Cryus's but his full image still represented a passable Black.

He was able to walk around in public without being gawked at as the savior who was supposed to be dead. No one living had ever seen him other than Sirius and Dumbledore, and thanks to Lucius neither of them had set eyes on the boy since Godric's Hollow. If somehow one of them were to miraculously become curious Lucius would demand a full trial in front of the Wizengamot before anyone touched him, and neither Sirius or Dumbledore had the evidence to even procure a hearing on the matter. Sirius had claimed that both Lucius and Bellatrix were present at Godric's Hollow but both cases had already been thrown out. Lucius's case was tossed on the grounds of the imperius curse and Bellatrix's was thrown out after her lawyer presented evidence of insanity and mind altering potions within her meals, which was of course faked. If Sirius or Dumbledore somehow discovered anything peculiar about the boy there was very little they would be able to do on their own.

**BREAK...**

As Cyrus awoke he could feel a wintry breeze caress his cheeks. Mimsy, the personal house elf for his quarters, had just brought tea to awake her master at 7:00 am sharp for his regular daily activities. Cyrus's aristocratic upbringing allowed only one day's leniency in this matter, but he was often up before dawn reading at his fireplace. Nearly at the age of seven, his mental faculties were above most children entering Hogwarts. Once something had caught Cryus's interest he would immerse himself into texts that were filled with its theory and history until he had completely satisfied his mind. The book on his bedside table was a heartfelt suggestion from Lucius, _A History on Muggle Warfare: Ancient to Present_, By Ira Bankheart. Cyrus found the book interesting if not somewhat terrifying at his age, if he had formed any opinion at all on Muggles it was that they were mere savages.

He was curled in his covers as Mimsy finished setting tea next to his bedside before going to awake him. As the four foot elf rounded the tea stand on her way to Cryus's bed, her elbow clumsily nudged the stand and forced the tea pot to fall over the side. Mimsy reacted in an instant and began fumbling for the tea pot as it fell towards the ground. She caught it with one hand just before it hit the floor while hot tea began to fall on the carpet. Mimsy tried to save the tapestry as much as she could and cusped her hand to contain all the spilt tea her hand would hold while setting the tea pot back on its stand with her other hand. The tea was scalding her but as a good house elf she didn't want to ruin her masters possessions and awkwardly ran over to the closest window she could find to pour out the tea from her hand. Cryrus, who was spending the weekend with his Aunt Bella, turned over in his bed to avoid the cold rush of air let in by Mimsy and shivered as he started to feel goosebumps form all over his body.

His Aunt Bella was already up, and while she was an unpredictable witch, she had a meticulous morning routine that splintered from her impulsive nature. First, Bellatrix's use of spirits came almost exclusively in the morning. She didn't particularly enjoy the effects of the substance, but it would temporarily tranquilize her unstable mind before the day began. It was more of a necessity than anything and was recommended to her by Rudolphus, who was relieved that her morning tantrums receded when she took his advice. To merely suggest that she wasn't a morning person was a gross understatement. At this particular time of day the house elves of the Lestrange Manor feared for their lives while in her presence. For whatever reason, spirits provided her an odd sense of normalcy in the morning that she needed above all else.

After promptly guzzling her shot of fire whiskey, Bella would make her way to the bathroom and begin her second routine. Once she had groomed herself to perfection, she would intently stare in front of the mirror and then in front of her bedroom for five or ten minutes before budging. It wasn't that she had an extreme vanity of any sort, but a part of her mind wouldn't allow a single strand of hair to be misplaced or a pillow on her bed to appear too flat. Everything that was a part of her had to be controlled immediately upon recognizing ownership over it, this is why she didn't allow the elves to make her room. To some she would appear a crazed type of perfectionist, but she was both possessive and impulsive to the point of insanity.

Finally, Bella's last routine of the morning was tending to her thestrals. This half hour was the most serene and carefree escape her mind could afford her. She normally left the elves to tend for the animals when she was away from the manor, but she always cared for them herself while at home. Bellatrix was naturally drawn towards these specimens, they had an unexplainable attraction she couldn't resist. To her, they were magnificent creatures of grace and beauty where others regarded them as beasts of horror and death. She was slightly deranged, but when in peace and not influenced by impulsive bigotry and rage her mind reached a state of liberty that enabled her to recognize nature as it truly was.

Bellatrix had just finished feeding her Thestrals and was walking by Cyrus's room to make sure he was awake, she had a special day planned for them and wanted to get a move on. As she was marching past Cyrus's room she saw a stubby looking house elf with her hand out an open window near Cyrus. It was well below freezing outside and the frostbitten wind was blowing through the window and towards Cyrus's bed, who had now just awoken. She saw this and at once stopped on a dime and turned to face Mimsy with a terrifying glare in her eyes. All she could see was that some filthy creature in her service named Mimsy was blowing freezing air onto her Godchild. It was simply unfathomable in her eyes, she was brought up to view house elves with a lens of utter disgust and aristocratic superiority. The impulses that instantly flashed before her mind communicated to her that it was putting Cyrus in danger of illness, or at least some discomfort. She screeched the first thoughts that came to mind,

"Wretched!...FOUL creatur-!"

"M-Mimsy is sorry madam!" she squeaked with urgency as she faced her master, knowing the wrath that was to come her way.

Fury had already overtaken her mind and she spoke through gritted teeth as she advanced upon the shivering elf, "How dare... you swore an oath to this family elf! Do you BETRAY the Most Noble Hou-!

"No m-master! No! Mimsy does not betray! Mimsy is a good house elf! Mimsy loves Master!" the frantic elf continued yelping.

She glanced over at Cyrus who was now curled in his covers at the edge of his bed still not wanting to get up. He was quite used to Aunt Bella's outbursts and didn't care to interrupt. He knew by now that house elves were inferior creatures and that Mimsy had made a mistake somehow. She probably wasn't deserving of Bellatrix's fury, but few were and changing Aunt Bella's perspective on the treatment of house elves wasn't a battle he thought he could win, or cared to fight for anyway. Besides, he was impressed with Bellatrix's display of power and superiority and didn't care for house elves very much. The only elf Cyrus ever cared for was Tilly, the one who had helped raise him. Aunt Bella had acknowledged this and practically ignored the elf's existence, always restraining herself as best she could while in the elf's presence.

"Liar!" She continued her rampage over the elf after seeing her godson and brought her arm forth in a swift motion to backhand the tiny elf.

Mimsy went tumbling to the floor and hit the ground with a loud thud. She hastily apologized over and over again and started to smash her head against the stone floor repeatedly. She made a large bloody gash on her forehead appear before Bellatrix got tired of the elf's antics and started for her wand.

"Out of my way!" she demanded menacingly as she bolted to shut the window. With wand already in hand she tapped the window once and turned back around to look at Cyrus who was still curled in a ball at the end of his bed, enjoying the toasty cocoon he had made with his covers. As Bellatrix begin to make her way towards Cyrus she flicked her wand and Mimsy went flying out of the room towards the spiral staircase just outside the room and crashed halfway down. Bella only muttered "filth" under her breath as Mimsy tumbled to the bottom floor. She came upon Cyrus's bed and abruptly lightened her mood and adopted the most adoring tone she knew, which always happened to sound more threatening and wicked than motherly.

"Time to wake my little viper," she spoke as soothingly as she could and laid a hand on the mass of blankets and sheets that Cyrus was buried beneath to give a slight nudge.

Cyrus was up the night before reading until falling asleep and still didn't want to leave the comforts of his bed. "Mmmmm... ten minutes Aunt Bella, I don't feel well," he boyishly groaned. It was a complete lie that Aunt Bella would probably see through but he thought it was worth a try.

Bellatrix smirked, "Oh thats too bad Cyrus...I was hoping we could get your new school supplies today. O well, if that's the case then we'll just have to wait till Chri-"

"My wand?" Cyrus leaped from his bed and tore the covers off himself in an instant. He had been waiting for this day as long as he could remember.

"Unless you still prefer your oak twig my dear, I wouldn't dream of taking it from you." she said playfully.

Cyrus could only smile and was already racing towards his closet. He walked in to what was a room bigger than most childhood bedrooms and grabbed one his twenty-something black robes at random and bolted to the bathroom. It took him less than five minutes to get ready and by the time he was breakfast had already been served downstairs by the elves. The boy raced down the hallway towards the staircase in joy and stopped at once when he heard Bellatrix scream sharply,

"CYRUS!"

He stopped running at once upon hearing Aunt Bella and slowed to a brisk pace, straightened his back, tilted his head upwards slightly in an aristocratic manner, and rested his arms to his side as he went down stairs. The child was taught not to express overbearing emotion, joy was only tolerated to a certain degree. He was a Dark pureblood wizard and they believed that the display of any type of emotion at all was a weakness that enemies could exploit. This sentiment was true to an extent for much of wizarding society and Cyrus was already well known among Dark wizarding circles. He would have to be sure to stay alert and learn to restrain his emotions and keep himself in check in the presence of others, that started at home.

Once seated at the dining table two house elves apperated to each side of Cyrus and began placing a meal of eggs benedict, biscuits with strawberry jam, and pumpkin juice in front of him. There were three dining rooms in the Lestrange Manor, one in the kitchen nook where breakfast and lunch was usually served, another in the main dining area where dinner was served in a more formal setting, and one in the ballroom where parties and large conferences were held. The kitchen nook was attached to a lavish sitting area that was much like the rest of the castle with a handsome grey stone interior, high arching wooden beams to support cathedral ceilings, polished furnishings of a regal appearance, and antique rugs and tapestries of rich emerald colors. Cyrus sat in one of eight English Windsor chairs that surrounded the long table and was facing the portrait of Regulus Black. Bellatrix had Regulus's portrait moved from the Black Manor to the Lestrange's, believing that Cyrus could learn from the man's life of duty and obligation to the Dark's cause.

Regulus Black was a stalwart of the Dark movement during the beginning of the war just as James Potter was for the Light. He was captured by Dumbledore and his brother Sirius Black upon returning from his recruitment mission in Russia to participate in a raid at the Ministry of Magic. The Headmaster had agreed with Sirius to spare him from the dementors if captured and even attempt to sway him to the Light's cause, but only after questioning him under veritaserum. Death eaters were normally given a choice between going to Azkaban or taking veritaserum and joining the felons of Nurmengard, away from the dementors. He promised Sirius he would have him moved to Nurmengard regardless of the outcome once they captured him, but none of it mattered it in the end.

It was a little known fact that as a top ranking official within Lord Voldemort's inner circle, Regulus always carried a hidden vial of potion when going into battle that ended its drinker's life within seconds. Every member of the inner circle was to carry this potion during battle in case of being captured and given the option of life in Azkaban, or drinking veratiserum and going to Nurmengard. It was said that the 'Light' did not torture, but most death eaters considered a lifetime of being subjected to the endless despair of dementors an act far worse than a few crucios at the hand of Voldemort's wand and instant death. Although they were barely kept alive, Voldemort left most of his prisoners in the dungeons as bargaining chips and were hardly ever paid attention to unless it was thought they had valuable information to give. It could have certainly been argued that Voldemort himself treated his prisoners far better than the Light treated theirs, even if it were a difference between inhumane and unimaginable.

Regulus had taken the potion when he discovered he was to be given veratiserum and was soon regarded as a martyr for the Dark's cause, which rallied a countless number of other sacrifices. For this reason, Regulus was received by the Dark wizarding community as one of the greatest and most tragic heroes lost during their defeat. As a portrait in the Lestrange Manor, he decided to pass the lessons he learned in life and during the war to his 'heir,' Cyrus Black. He was proud to call Cyrus his heir and thought him as befitting of his legacy when he had witnessed his magical abilities. The portrait didn't preach independence or of the need to choose one's battles wisely, instead he spoke on a more personal level. Cyrus was at his Aunt Bella's nearly every weekend of his childhood whether he was with Lucius or Cygnus, and during that time Regulus had instilled in him a perspective that he would use for the rest of his life.

Power, just as with Uncle Lucius and Aunt Bella, was the foremost deciding factor in an individual's worth. The man believed that without power that either the Light would inevitably snuff the Dark out of existence or all of wizarding kind would be destroyed by the muggle world. He viewed the latter as an inevitability because he believed that despite the growing population, the wars of muggle-kind and the destruction they brought would eventually be the end to the wizarding world . This topic was a heated issue between the Light and Dark communities. The Light believed that the muggle world was pursuing a path of peace and that soon their instruments of science and technology would result in a life of ease that would put them at rest over their squabbles. Many Light wizarding folks such as Arthur Weasley even believed that at some point in the future both communities would be able to come together and live in harmony. The Dark, on the other hand, believed that wizarding kind had to prepare for a reign of war and extermination. Living among the muggles was similar to signing a death warrant for them, convinced that if their community were ever found out they would be slaughtered out of fear or treated as muggle lab rats. Behind the issues of the advancement of Dark magic, creatures, and instruments, it was fear of the muggle world that perpetuated centuries of war in their own.

Beyond the teachings of wizarding politics, Regulus taught Cyrus a level of personal perspective. He told the child to asses a man's character and worth rather than his political convictions, something few Dark or Light wizards were capable of. The man believed that a wizard put himself in great danger without regarding the right enemy with respect. To Regulus there were only two traits within a man's soul that mattered, his power and his loyalty to his beliefs. In this way he able to express his true views on personal matters and paint both James Potter and Sirius in two different lights that the boy could understand. Aunt Bella had always told Cyrus that her cousin was a blood-traitor, and though he despised Sirius for it he didn't fully grasp the concept in all its depth nor its political ramifications at such a young age. Regulus's personal views on the judgment of a man's character was something that Cyrus would be able to comprehend and take to heart during his childhood, and it was also something that allowed the portrait to speak of freely James Potter without a lens of bigotry. Uncle Lucius was able to mutter 'respectable man' through gritted teeth when asked about him once and Aunt Bella wouldn't say anything at all, except that she never knew him.

Regulus Black and James Potter never knew each other on a personal basis, but they had fought each other in battle on a number of occasions. James had been brought up at an early age to adhere to the Light's cause, but he was powerful and unwavering in the principles he stood for. This was something that Regulus could respect in a man and acknowledged him as a leader, even if he was misguided. Sirius, however, was viewed by his brother as a follower rather than a man of principle. According to Regulus, Sirius never formed firm convictions of his own and was always more of a 'follower' than his own man. The portrait told Cyrus in a matter of fact tone one day that if James had decided it was best to jump off a mountain upon waking up, it would be likely that one would be able to see his brother following him to the top. Cyrus was glad that Sirius had given him his precious blood but also carried a deep resentment for him because he felt that the man was responsible for his mother's death. After he heard that he was a mindless follower from Regulus, there were few people he hated more. The portrait believed it was important for the boy to have a true father to look up to that was of his own blood and he much preferred James Potter than his traitorous brother.

Lastly, he was taught by the portrait and every member in the family of the Light's leader, Dumbledore. Cyrus was taught that the man was a manipulative old goat that believed his ideals were destined to save wizarding kind, no matter how many lives or families he had to meddle in or destroy. If it hadn't been for Dumbledore's meddling, Regulus told him, James may have been given an opportunity to see the world in a different light when he was younger. After all, the man took James under his wing at the first sign of talent when he started Hogwarts and never let him go. It was known by all that James was Dumbledore's little golden child in his era, he and his band of pranksters pulled the worst stunts the school had ever seen and nearly killed a student (Severus Snape) during one of their pranks. Severus was always snooping into the Marauders business and on a full moon, Sirius intentionally influenced Severus to follow him to the Shrieking Shack where Remus nearly killed the greasy haired boy before James stepped in to save his life. No one was sure if James was let in on this 'prank' but he didn't step in to do anything until he was already severely injured anyway. In the end, Dumbledore never so much as lifted a finger to interfere or stop them throughout all of this, even after the incident with Snape. The creation of James Potter, the Light's bastion of strength and character in his prime, had Albus Dumbledore's fingerprints all over it and Cyrus's family wanted him to know this about the Headmaster more than anything else. Regulus lead him to believe by the way he and others spoke, that the Headmaster had brainwashed a respectable wizard in his father and lead him to his demise as a pawn of war. Nearly at age seven, Cyrus cringed every time he heard the name 'Dumbledore,' and vowed revenge on his father's life.

As for Lily, he was told that Voldemort even tried to spare her life, but either way Cyrus couldn't blame a crazed Dark Lord for all his problems. It wasn't that simple to him, Lucius told him the man saw him as a threat to the Dark and was dead now anyway, any revenge needed to be taken already had been. Besides, Cyrus knew that all of Voldemort's behavior were actions of war, and a war fought for a cause that he had come to believe in. The man who was most responsible for his mother was the person who decided to trust his and his mother's life to Peter Pettigrew. Cyrus had seen the pathetic man down in Lucius's dungeons, who was on life sustaining potions so that he could be given to the boy as a gift at the proper age. Sirius may have come with the greatest of intentions, but as far as Cyrus was concerned he meddled in their lives and lead it to annihilation.

By age six, Cyrus had shown that he understood what he had been taught and that he was well on his way to becoming a Dark wizard. Bellatrix and Lucius, as well as Regulus, were absolutely thrilled with the way they had gotten through to the boy. When the time was right they decided it was best to tell Cyrus about his prophecy and the true reason Voldemort visited Potter's Cottage on that Halloween night. Voldemort and Dumbledore were the only known people to have heard the prophecy, but everyone in wizarding society knew that prophecies only foretold one of many possible futures, which appeared to have already happened in Harry Potter's case. All that anyone knew about the prophecy was that either the Potter or Longbottom child were expected to be powerful. Prophecies had been behind the creation of both Dark Lords and Mages since the beginning of Magic but were rarely known to be entirely accurate. It was only because Voldemort and the boy were both believed to be dead, and also the mere fact that the child was known to be a Potter, that everyone concluded Harry to be the Light's 'chosen one.'

Regardless of what the public believed, Lucius wanted Cyrus growing up knowing the truth so he could never feel betrayed if he found something out they weren't aware of later on in life. He told the child that no one was aware of the prophecy's exact wording but that it foretold of Cyrus potentially having the power to lead the wizarding world in the direction of its true fate. The information was vague but true, Lucius was careful to never lie to Cyrus because he knew in the future he would both not only want but need his utmost trust.

Still, Cyrus's childhood wasn't entirely free of lies of course. The first lie he was told was about Lily Evans. Lucius and Bellatrix both told Cyrus that they had discovered Lily was a pureblood of a Swiss bloodline that had died out several years ago. It was true that neither one believed Lily was a mudblood to begin with, but to them it was important that Cyrus didn't know his true mother was a mudblood since he would grow up in a world that despised them. Lucius vowed that he would discover Cyrus's true background when he was old enough to preform the blood test required, and if suitable, would tell him the true nature of his mother's bloodline then. If not, Lucius could simply just bribe someone to forge the documents from the test anyway. The fact that he would be discovered as Harry Potter by the results wouldn't be an issue. Lucius could effortlessly cast a memory charm on whoever administered the test or just have the goblins preform it, which was much more expensive but it was also more thorough and would be kept private under goblin oath. He wasn't very worried about it either way.

The last lie Lucius and Bellatrix told Cyrus was about their intentions when taking him from his crib. They said that at first they were frightened of him after defeating the Dark Lord and were contemplating on what to do with him. He was a Potter and had Light blood, if the prophecy was true then he would likely become a leader for the Light. Lucius and Bellatrix told Cryus that they were going to leave him for Dumbledore because they didn't want to kill him from a combination of fright and sympathy but they remembered that he was a Black once they snapped out of their panic. Lucius and Bellatrix went on and told him that they were hesitant, but because he had the Black's family blood in his veins they wanted to 'give him a chance' in becoming a Dark wizard. They suggested that they were torn out of fright, sympathy, and the known fact that he had Dark blood, but decided it was their obligation to give him a chance as a Black and save him from Dumbledore. Later on, they told him that they had grown to love him like parents and that they weren't concerned whether he grew up to be a leader for the Dark or not, which to some degree was true but not entirely. Regardless, their love was evident and Cyrus felt grateful that he was given an opportunity to become a Dark wizard. They could have just left him for the Headmaster if they were so frightened of him or felt sympathetic. Cyrus ultimately believed that they took him from his crib because he 'belonged' and needed to be given a chance as a Black, which he was grateful for. He had no idea how he conquered Lord Voldemort, but over the years he began to feel an odd sense of obligation to the Dark for what he did and wanted to prove to his family that he could become a Dark wizard. Cyrus was slowly coming to realize that it was partly because of him, if not entirely, that his own kind was near extinction in England.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four, Part Two: A Potion's Master and a Familiar**

Cyrus had just finished breakfast and as he was getting up from the table the fireplace erupted in green flames and two wizards appeared before him. One of the men was Uncle Lucius, but he was with a strange looking man the boy had never seen before. He had a stern, narrow face and a pair of the darkest eyes he had ever seen with pupils that appeared as miniature wells of vibrant black ink. There was a curtain of greasy black hair pushed to the very edges of his vision and a hooked nose that looked as though it had been broken several times. The man stood in a supremely confident manner but kept his hands folded in front of him and didn't budge until Lucius spoke to the boy.

"Aw, Cyrus! I'm glad to see you," he greeted him while shooting Bellatrix a glare and finished sarcastically, "I hope your morning has treated you well? Aunt Bella hasn't over worked you I expect?" Lucius believed her to spoil the boy to no end while he was at the Lestrange Manor. Draco and Cyrus were certainly spoiled enough at the Malfoy's but even he thought the personal elf, pool, and library at age six was a bit over the top.

Cyrus had already gotten up from the table and was halfway over to Lucius before his uncle had finished the question. He ignored his greetings almost entirely and started to jump up and down to exclaim childishly, "I'm fine Uncle Lucius! Is it true? Are we getting my wand today? Are you coming with us! Can we go now! Please...! Can we go-"

Lucius reached out his arm and ruffled Cyrus's hair before interrupting in a casual manner, "Calm yourself Cyrus... We'll leave soon I promise, but first I want you to meet someone important. Draco has already met him and its your birthday tomorrow, I think its time you two get know each other as well." Lucius paused and gestured his hand towards Severus before continuing gently, "Cyrus, this is Severus Snape. He is a professor at Hogwarts and a close friend of mine, but more importantly he is your and Draco's Godfather and someone I trust. He is a fine man and has your best interest at heart as my child. You and Draco will be starting school in a few years and I want you to become acquainted with one another... He'll be coming with us today to help buy supplies for your upcoming lessons."

Cyrus looked up at Lucius and then over at the strange looking man. Anyone in the room could see the joy surface in his eyes, he didn't know him yet but to hear that he had a Godfather and another person that cared for him in life was a profound moment for the child. He didn't have any living relatives other than Sirius and another addition to his god-family was welcomed in his life, as long as Uncle Lucius approved of the man at least.

Bellatrix looked enraged but was trying to keep yourself in check. She was unsure about Snape and didn't like the fact that Lucius had just named him Cryus's Godfather, particularly without informing her. Bella thought the man had either played both sides near the end of the war or he had done what very few wizards were capable of doing and had actually tricked Albus Dumbledore. The first impulse in her mind was that the man was a traitor only looking out for himself, but she wasn't entirely sure and still stared at him with more vitriol than curiosity. It was puzzling, her speculation was rampant but she also thought there had to be a good reason why Lucius named him Godfather. In any case, she restrained herself from going on rampage out of sheer curiosity and held her tongue.

In truth, Lucius only trusted him because he thought the man to be much like himself and had a same general view of the world. They had both immersed themselves into the Dark Arts at a very young age and there was no apparent reason to him why Severus would immediately alter his beliefs, he never knew him to be a coward or indecisive in his following. Lucius believed he had not only proven to be a loyal death eater during the war, but also proved that he was just as cunning, ruthless, and ambitious as himself. He respected the man for being able to dupe the old goat and thought that even if he were still pretending to be Dumbledore's spy, there wasn't a big difference between that and claiming to had been under the imperius curse. Severus had been sly enough to evade capture without any assistance and to the Head of the Malfoy House this was a noble trait. Lucius considered him as one of his best friends during the war and as far as he knew they were both still very much alike. To him, the potion's master could be a good influence upon both Cyrus and Draco while at Hogwarts and could protect them from any of Dumbledore's meddling or interference.

The professor took a step forward and put on a pleasant face, or as much of one that he could manage. When Lord Voldemort had fallen he had taken with him one of the only connections to humanity, if not theonly, that Severus ever had in his life. He was quite detached from society and didn't have much care for many people, in fact he despised most people. One could almost go as far as calling the man sadistic, his need to learn the Dark Arts not only stemmed from the fact that he carried Dark blood but from the need to protect himself against others. However, it seemed that there had been a few adverse effects on the man's childhood from the bullying he endured and his studies in the Dark Arts began evolve because of this. Furthermore, not only could he be boarder-line sadistic but quite petty as well. Since his childhood bullies were of the Gryffindor house, one of his few goals in his dreadful existence was to make the life of everyone who belonged in that house a living hell. His daily activities now were mostly comprised of potion making, studying Dark political matters, and pursuing lifelong biases when not reporting to Dumbledore or visiting Nicholas Flamel to pick brain on whatever had recently caught his interest.

By now he had learned many of the mistakes he made in his life and realized that he had used his studies for a need to have the same power over others that people such as James and Sirius had over him. Severus started creating Dark Spells such as his now famous 'Sectumsemptra' at an early age along with many potions that were considered to be poisons by most of his peers. The path he took during his school years corrupted him and eventually lead him to people such as Lucius Malfoy and Lord Voldemort. Dark magic consumed him entirely and he ended up joining the Dark's cause because he felt that he belonged there and had built a loyalty for their beliefs. The Dark blood his mother passed to him had given him a refuge and a pack in the wizarding world that he felt loyalty for and could automatically claim as his own, they were of his own blood and studied the same magic.

It wasn't until after Lily's death that he became concerned with political ideology. The only person he ever cared for didn't abandon him because he simply called her a 'mudblood' one day, but because she couldn't forgive him for the fundamental ideals he came to follow. Snape and Lily never spoke after Hogwarts and after her death he felt as if she had left him on the world totally alone and unforgiven. He thought about leaving the world himself after her death but months of heavy contemplation told him that he would be leaving his life unfulfilled. Severus needed Lily's forgiveness before his soul could rest, he wouldn't be able to let go until he could find solace in her memory.

Lily's death motivated him to reconsider his political convictions and study what he had followed for so many years. She had told him before the end of their friendship that the crowd he began to associate with over the years were vile and that he was becoming a mindless follower. Severus came to understand why she left him now in more depth and wanted forgiveness, but he didn't know where else to find it but in the beliefs that she had apparently left him for. Once she died, Severus started to put in the type of study he should have put towards his actual principles and political convictions before coming to acknowledge them as true and joining Lord Voldemort.

Dumbledore had only allowed Severus to switch alliances and join the Light when he heard of who the prophecy referred to for two simple reasons. First, the old man had a soft heart for love and felt like his feelings for Lily were truly stronger than his commitment to the Dark's cause, even after the war the Headmaster became convinced that Severus had finally 'seen the Light.' Secondly, he had no one in the Dark's ranks at the time to feed him inside information and this was something he was desperate for.

At the end of the war Severus began to speak with Nicholas Flamel and formed an immense respect for the wizard. He started to discuss a number of subjects with him that he never genuinely cared for or put much thought towards. Due to his detachment from most of society he was enabled to coast through life without regarding others for who they truly were. Snape didn't acknowledge this much to himself but he discovered in his contemplations and meetings with Flamel that his views of the world were superficial at best. After several months of discussion and the readings of many philosophical texts recommended by both Nicholas and Dumbledore, he found that he never truly believed many of the things he grew up preaching. His perspective on mudblood inferiority or the need to wipe out muggle-kind had changed dramatically, and on other issues as well such as methods of interrogation by the Light or the illegality of many Dark potions he believed to be useful. At the end of his studies, he still felt like the same wizard but his political convictions emerged as a lighter shade of 'Dark' than most of his colleagues during the war. He began to feel as though Lily would see him as a reformed man today and would forgive him if she were alive, which instilled a touch of pride in him. Still, he kept telling himself that her absence from the world was because of his doing. It was something he was unable to forgive himself for and is what drove him to a selfless life of devotion in the beliefs that he and Lily could champion together after her death.

The common ideals that they could now hold together radiated a warmth in a once cold and dormant soul, it represented a deep connection to Lily Evans. The only way he could ever feel the energy and passion her presence emitted after her horrifying murder was to pursue these ideals they could stand together on today. For this reason, along with the fact that Nicholas Flamel's presence had put him at ease, he was comfortable working for the leader of the Light, Albus Dumbledore. Snape knew that the man was too meddling for his own good and had age old bigotries he would never change, but he also knew that he was very persuasive and could be useful when his manipulations were tempered. He was also obligated to spy for Dumbledore until the Dark was defeated to the old man's satisfactory under the original agreement that saved him from Nurmengard. Even so, he had access to information many others didn't and used this as an opportunity to work both for and against the Headmaster.

His overarching ambition was for the Dark to have a place in the wizarding world along with the Light, but he feared total domination by either. He didn't want muggleborns to be at risk of subjugation or to provoke a war against an innocent world that they did not fully understand, nor did he want his own kind to be subjugated by self-interested and bigoted idealists. Severus's mission was clear to him now, he wanted to give the Dark a fair shake in wizarding society but wanted to prevent another attempt at domination, or worse the creation of another Dark Lord that would inevitably lead them to it. Lily's death had transformed the potions master from a detached man with few political principles to a wizard who was willing to die for the ones he came to believe in, both in his name and hers.

Snape swallowed a lump in his throat and looked down at the boy, he was grateful that Dumbledore had not yet heard the whispers of Cyrus Black. He had been told about him years ago by Lucius and knew that Dumbledore would discover the boy sooner or later. If there were anything unique in him at all then he would rather discuss it with Nicholas before the Headmaster came bumbling his way to get his hands on the child. Flamel was the only wizard he was ware of that could either stop him, dissuade him, or convince him that someone else was better suited for the job. Severus knew that his worries could very well be for nothing though, the Dark was in a desperate situation and they cherished all the talent they had remaining. It was true that most young dark witches and wizards left after the war were of powerful parents but Snape still believed it to be unlikely that the boy would be anything special.

When he first heard of Cyrus he hated the fact that Lucius had named him Godfather to Sirius's nephew but had no choice. If he refused it would be the equivalent of slapping the aristocrat in the face, and as a double agent he couldn't do that. He didn't want anything to do with Sirius's nephew, but once he had considered the matter for a while he thought it might be an excellent opportunity for revenge. Cyrus was the last remaining heir of the Black family line and Sirius wouldn't be able to set eyes on him until he was at Hogwarts. The fact that _he_ would be his Godfather and main influence at Hogwarts right under Sirius's nose game him immeasurable satisfaction. Dumbledore had handed him the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor over Severus without a second's thought, which only fueled Severus's hatred for the man further.

When Dumbledore discovered that the Malfoys would never let Sirius Black into the Dark ranks he became slightly confused. He knew that the Dark only rarely accepted back those who had abandon them, but he believed as the last remaining Black he would be one of the special exceptions. Upon finding out that this wasn't the case he became deeply saddened by the decision he made all those years ago, Fawkes had only shed tears twice since then and he was no closer to finding the rest of the hallows than he was before the war. Nonetheless, he stashed Sirius away for a later use and put him on the Hogwarts staff despite Snape's outbursts. Now that Snape knew of Cyrus Black though, he was quite pleased that Sirius would be at Hogwarts.

Just as he looked down at the boy he opened his mouth to speak, but the boy quickly interrupted him. Normally the professor would be aggravated by an interruption but he was too determined to gain this boys trust to be anything other than cheerful at the moment.

"You're my Godfather?" Cyrus asked in wonderment. He was still getting over the fact that he had a Godmother _and_ a Godfather now. Unable to quell his excitement he asked hurriedly, "Will you be coming with us to get my wand Mr. Snape?"

Snape's lip curled ever so slightly before saying in his usual monotone voice, "I am not sure... but yes, I am your godfather Cyrus. Your brother Draco calls me Uncle Sev, you are welcome to address me in the same manner if you wish..." he paused at seeing disappointment scarcely written on his face before slowly stating in an explanatory fashion, "Buying potion ingredients will take a bit of time and your Uncle Lucius thought it best if we're not there long. However, I do understand that it is your birthday, is it not?"

Cyrus didn't say anything but nodded his head gleefully.

Snape was following what Lucius had told him earlier and continued, "Perhaps you wouldn't mind an early present then? I have a busy schedule tomorrow and may not be there for much-"

"A present? No sir! I wouldn't mind! Can we-"

"A _present! _But _I _haven't even-" Bella began impulsively before Lucius cut in.

"AFTER, his wand Bella dear... " Lucius growled tirelessly, resisting the urge to sigh in exasperation. He was surprised she was taking it as well as she was but didn't want her to make a scene of anything. Snape and Cyrus needed to get to know one another eventually and this was a great opportunity for them. The potions master could mingle with the parents of whatever student that he pleased for the most part, but he couldn't be seen with Bellatrix and Lucius for extended periods of time. They were well known followers of the Dark Lord and no one wanted their kid going to Hogwarts thinking that one of their children's professors might be a former death eater. This is one of the reasons both Snape and Lucius wanted to arrive in Diagon Alley before it became crowded, Severus was already under enough scrutiny by both parents and students and it wasn't necessary to give them any more reasons to be suspicious.

Bellatrix reigned in her temper at this but didn't like the idea of Snape strolling away with Cyrus somewhere, she could trust very few people with the boy and Severus Snape wasn't one of them. It looked like she wanted to say something else but it was nearly eight o'clock and Lucius didn't want to waste anymore time, before she could even begin to open her mouth he spoke firmly, "Cyrus, you and Severus will meet Aunt Bella and I outside Gringotts when you are done. I haven't any galleons on hand and we have a meeting to schedule that concerns you..." He didn't want to explain anything to the boy just yet but noticed a hint of confusion in Cyrus's eyes and gently reassured him, "It's nothing to worry over, I'll discuss it with you later. Now... Bella, Severus, if you are ready?"

Bella and Snape both nodded as Lucius extended a gesture towards the fireplace. Cyrus took Uncle Lucius's hand in his and waited for Bellatrix and Snape to floo their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Bellatrix gave Severus one last glare of disgust before she left in a green flame but the Potions Master only smirked in amusement as he followed her. After Severus vanished in the fire place Lucius stepped forward with Cyrus and threw in a handful of green powder as he clearly exclaimed "Diagon Alley" with an inkling of excitement in his voice.

**BREAK...**

Cyrus and Lucius arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and saw Bellatrix and Snape already walking to the back of the grummy looking joint. There wasn't anyone in the place at this hour except for Tom, the owner, who was weaving his wand through the air and flipping chairs upright and off the tables to prepare for customers. Lucius gave a nod of respect to the frightened looking man and made his way to the back door along with Cyrus. Out back they saw Bellatrix and Snape waiting for them in silence and walked towards the odd pair. Without waiting another second Lucius took charge with a commanding tone and took out his wand,

"Cyrus, when I open the gate I want you and Severus to walk out first in front of us. We'll follow behind at a distance and meet you at Gringotts in about an hour's time. I don't want you giving Professor Snape any trouble, understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Lucius" he responded impatiently.

Lucius nodded in satisfaction and turned to face the red brick wall with his wand. He began to tap several random stones on the outer edge of a brick that was narrowly protruding from the rest of the them and in a few seconds the bricks in front of them began to unlock from each other one by one to reveal the entrance of Diagon Alley.

Severus twitched his eyes down at Cyrus and signaled that it was time to go. This was normally an occasion in which he might take Draco's hand, but he couldn't bring himself to extend the same gesture to his other godson. If the boy was anything unique at all then it would helpful to garner his trust, but this particular boy was a Black and Severus hated all members of the Black family with no exceptions. Regulus was the only person he didn't have to restrain himself from cursing in his days, but he didn't necessarily like the man either and he could only dream of choking the life out of both Sirius and Bellatrix. To be playing the role of Godfather in this child's life was a horrifying scenario for him. He could only hope that the boy wouldn't turn out to be anything like his miserable relatives, it would be difficult enough to treat him with any decent courtesy and wouldn't be able to stand another typical Black.

They both walked forward together with only a few inches of separation between them while Cyrus began to take in the sights around him. People would cower away and gawk when Lucius and Bellatrix went out in public so the boy was only able to come here a couple of times every year. To see other witches and wizards crowding the streets along the narrow walls of quaint village shops towering above was always an impressive spectacle for him. Diagon Alley had numerous windows of display with brooms, prank equipment, random magical instruments, unique books, rare potion supplies, magical telescopes, and a variety of other interesting exhibits that the boy was instantly drawn towards. However, he had not seen the shop he was most attracted to for nearly two years. The store appeared as a small two-story wooden cabin crammed between a bakery and a bookstore with a variety of magical creatures inside.

It almost seemed to exude a magnetic pull towards Cyrus when he had first passed by it with his uncle but Lucius didn't have time to go in and told him the only reliable familiars were owls and rats, neither of which he had use for yet.

As they passed the first couple of shops Severus decided it was time to get to know the boy a little bit. He wanted to know of the rumors he had heard and was also mildly interested in his upbringing with Lucius, but for the time being he didn't come across as nosey either. His job today was to make the boy happy and perhaps accumulate an ounce of trust in their visit together. Severus broke their silence and without looking at the boy he inquired, "I take it that you have been here on several occasions, correct?"

Cyrus shrugged his shoulders a little bit and said casually in his boyish voice, "Mmm... I don't think Aunt Bella or Uncle Lucius like coming here much, they say it's full of nasty mudbloods and muggle-lovers. I've only seen it a few times really..." he finished with a hint of disappointment.

"I see..." Severus uttered through gritted teeth. He wasn't the least surprised, but to hear these sentiments so offhandedly and at such an early age was bothersome. He wondered what else Lucius and Bellatrix had implanted in his head but didn't want his first impression with the boy to be tarnished by nosey questions.

After a brief moment of silence he thought about what he should ask and continued his investigation. "You'll be starting your studies soon, perhaps there a few books that might catch your interest?" Snape asked.

Cyrus looked in the air and hummed to himself thoughtfully. He didn't know how to approach the man and was waiting for him ask a more open question so he could inquire about familiars without coming off as rude.

When Severus saw him he added carefully,"I will be teaching you potions this upcoming year...as well at Hogwarts. Perhaps I could give you a head start in the area if you are interested?"

Cyrus looked up at him and said cautiously but in his usual polite manner, "Thanks Uncle Sev, maybe...but I have a library that I've started to read now and... well, I already have a lot of books I haven't started..."

"Indeed..." Severus said trying to hide the disdain from his tone. 'Of course the brat has his own library,'Snape thought to him self. 'He probably has his own flying carpet and squadron of elves for all I know.'

He couldn't help the hint of sarcasm in his next question and asked, "I expect you have a broom?"

Cyrus just nodded his head and didn't think anything of his godfather's new tone. He knew where he wanted to go and thought it was best to ask the man before he had to reject anymore generous offers from him They passed a few more shops and Cyrus spoke up with enthusiasm and asked,

"Uncle Sev... I saw a shop with anim-" he narrowed his eyes before continuing "magical creatures, a while ago, do you think we could go there?"

Snape looked down at the boy with interest and asked, "Possibly...What creature is it that you are you interested in?"

Cyrus shrugged his shoulders again and spoke hopefully, "I've never been inside before... Maybe an owl... I'm not sure, can I look around?"

Snape thought for only a few seconds, it wasn't necessarily the type of gift he was hoping to get Cyrus. He had wanted to get the boy started on the right track in at least one area before Bellatrix and Lucius taught him everything they knew about it. Any subject at all, the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, even Charms and Ancient Ruins would be taught in its most destructive form during Cyrus's childhood education. Still, Snape knew an animal familiar would be a memorable gift from him as his Godfather and were usually reasonably priced anyway, he had no reason to deny the boy.

"Very well then... If that is what you wish, we're not far now," he said and finally overcame his pettiness and took the boys hand as he began walking at a swifter pace. They went past several shops until they turned a corner at an intersection with a grand memorial to Harry Potter in the middle of the road. Severus could feel Cyrus tighten his grip and see his other hand ball into a fist as his pace began to accelerate, he could only imagine what he was told about Harry Potter.

After around ten minutes of walking they arrived at the two story shed with a sign over the top that stated '_HAN'S AND FRED'S MAGICAL CREATURES' _and walked into a place that smelled of old cedar musk. The store was more spacious then it initially appeared from the outside and it was separated into two sections upon walking in. One section of magical creatures on the right side of the room was full of owls, cats, and toads while the other side had rabbits, rats, and snakes. It didn't take more than a few seconds before Cyrus bolted to the left side of the shop in eager anticipation. He didn't know why, but he felt captivated by these creatures in an instant and never even bothered to give the creatures on the opposite side of the room a thought.

The left side of the store was split in two by an aisle that lead to a back room full of glass aquariums, designating three sections. Cyrus walked over to the rats on the far left first and noticed a decorated Chinese symbol hanging above them from the ceiling and small tags attached to every cage. He was intrigued by what he saw and picked up one of the tags to read what it had to say. It read:

_The Rat_

_Characteristics:_

_The rat is a brave and courageous creature who does not mind taking on large responsibilities. They are intelligent, stealthy, calculating, crafty, quick witted, and posses extraordinary instincts that enable them to see hidden paths and avenues that others cannot. Rats are also known to be survivalists and have a knack for coming out of dangerous situations alive and well._

_Uses_:

_Magical rats have two uses for witches and wizards. First, it will carry your notes and small parcels within manor or castle walls to your desired destination or individual. Secondly, rats do not have to be bonded to wards to penetrate them like other creatures or charms, such as an owl or the patronus. This unique creature is able to go long distances to guarded fortresses and camps undetected to deliver letters or charmed objects that are able to pass through protective wards. Rats will take longer to deliver messages, but if your mission or career requires stealth and secrecy then the rat is your familiar. It is proud and selective but not overly so, if the creature deems you worthy of its service it will acknowledge your presence and you may continue in its purchasing._

Cyrus was enticed by the rat and oddly respected the creature, but he still couldn't find any uses for it. Hogwarts was years away and as of right now the only friend he really had to send messages to was Draco, who was more of a brother and someone he lived with most of the time. He looked over to find Uncle Sev and saw him staring at a medium-sized grey rat with green eyes. The creature had just started to come out underneath a pile of wood chips to look at the greasy haired professor, it was an amusing sight for Cyrus to see man and rat staring each other down but moved on to the rabbits. They were all curled in nests of hay at the corner of their crates and appeared a bit larger than normal rabbits with more powerful hind-legs. Still, he wasn't sure what they could possibly be capable of and picked up one of the tags. It read:

_The Rabbit_

_Characteristics:_

_The rabbit is a sophisticated, stylish, and expressive creature that is serene and friendly in nature. They are known to be lovers of their home and are highly organized, self-disciplined, and artistic. If given a job they are likely to work behind the scenes and stay out of sight._

_Uses:_

_Magical rabbits have one purpose. Give a rabbit your magical garden as a home and watch it flourish into a beautified, thriving, and even intimidating landscape if chosen by the right familiar. The charming rabbit will not only enable you to grow healthier plants and brew more potent potions by keeping pests such as gnomes, flobberworms, and billywigs away from your garden, but they will also allow you to procure uniquely protective and territorial plant species to defend your home from unwanted trespassers. If your garden rabbit is powerful it is likely to invite many more of its kind and at your bidding, extend its home. There are a few of these creatures that have even been known to produce colonies that expand to hundreds of acres, creating perimeter defenses that will act as secondary protections to wards. The more powerful magical rabbits will choose the more powerful witch or wizard and acknowledge his or her presence by shaking its tail. _

He put down the tag with a wide eyed expression. 'Acres of protection by magical plants? This is a magnificent creature...' he thought to himself. Cyrus wanted his Uncle Lucius to get one for the Malfoy Manor but told himself that he'd deal with the rabbits later, he wanted to visit the snakes now. The back room of the shed had sparked an innate interest when he first walked into the store and he wondered what it was about the serpents that lured him towards them. Cyrus had never seen a snake before but had always felt a certain affection towards the creature. He could discern a bright red poster on the wall outside of the room of snakes and began to read what it said. It stated:

_The Serpent _

_Characteristics:_

_The serpent is a private, cunning, powerful, and moderately rare magical creature that is acutely aware of its surroundings. It is known to be highly protective and possessive, and is considered to be one of the darker creatures still legal today. The creatures are also famous for being overly proud, unreasonably selective, vain, and vicious in nature._

_Uses:_

_Serpents are used solely for protection and will guard you, your possessions, and your home from harm or theft with its life. However, customers should be aware that it is rare when these creatures choose a witch or wizard as a companion. Being unreasonably selective and proud, the serpent does not respond well to most humans and is usually harmless when they do find a suitable companion. Nevertheless, the few chosen by one tend to wear them as symbols of power and respect. Do not be discouraged or frightened by their behavior if they ignore or snap at you, this is typical conduct from a serpent. Please notify the staff if a snake familiar selects you._

Cyrus continued to read the poster over again and stopped at the words 'powerful,' 'protective,' and 'vicious.' These words held his eyes like magnets and couldn't peel them away until he thought he heard something strange. He believed he could detect a strangled voice coming from the back room and suddenly turned away from the poster to make his way down the hallway. His step was hesitant while he approached the room but there was no fear, instead he felt an odd welcoming sensation of discovery beckoning him nearer to the serpents, as if his deepest and most primal nature was just now being revealed to him.

The room was similar to the rest of the cabin with dusty wooden floorboards and walls, except this one was filled with three sections of glass aquariums. Each group of aquariums had signs above them on the wall listing the type of snakes sold under their section. Under the first section there was a small girl with dark brown eyes and bangs of short black hair that went half way down her neck. Cyrus saw that she had pretty face but with a stern air of aristocratic superiority like himself. She looked as if she wanted to approach the first section of snakes but was afraid, they were all glaring at her in an aggressively coiled posture from the corner of their aquariums with daring eyes that told her not step forward.

He looked up at the sign above the aquariums the girl was trying to approach and noticed that all the serpents were completely harmless with species such the as the garter, rough green, and corn snake. It was disappointing to see such a display of powerless serpents so Cyrus moved on to the second wall with aquariums and looked up at the sign. These creatures were a bit more powerful and full of smaller to medium sized Ball pythons and boa-constrictors, along with a few snakes of mild venom as well. As the boy stepped towards the aquariums some of the snakes started to move forward with tilted heads and curious gazes. The girl under the first section looked over at Cyrus in wonder at seeing this but pouted angrily when she turned back to her own set of snakes, who were still glaring at her in their corners.

More snakes began to move forward towards Cyrus but he still didn't see any interest in these creatures, none were very powerful and thought the other wall might be more impressive. He turned to see the third sign and it had a list of far more powerful snakes such as the Indian & Egyptian Cobra, the monstrous Australian Brown Snake, the Tiger Snake, the Inland Taipan, and various other deadly serpents that caught Cyrus's interest. Upon reading this he darted towards the third and last wall of aquariums and began observing the peculiar snakes within their respective corners.

The snakes didn't seem to mind his sudden advance towards them but none budged from the coiled positions except for one. A Scarlet King-snake had began to slither towards him as he came near its aquariums but before it moved any further the strangled hissing voice Cyrus had heard just minutes ago screeched,

"_Ssstay put!... sservile ssskin-traitor!"_

Cyrus jumped back a step at hearing this voice again, but he was able to discern who spoke and what was said this time. 'Magical snakes can talk?' he thought to himself in surprise, 'it didn't say so on the poster...'

Still astonished, he turned to the rattle snake that spoke and wondered if it could understand him. He faced the serpent and spoke up,_ "You can ssspeak? I didn't know tha-"_

Before Cyrus could finish the question he shot up his hand and cupped his mouth as if he had just swallowed a billywig. What he heard coming from his mouth was English, but it was accompanied with deep breaths of hissing. The girl across the room couldn't discern the human language coming from his mouth herself, but her eyes shot up wide and gaped at the boy with an incredulous expression chiseled into her young face.

The other snakes began looking at each other in reassurance of what they had just witnessed while Cyrus took his hand from his mouth and recollected himself. Within a few breaths of recovery, every snake in their compartment began to slither forward to greet him.

"_You ssspeak the parsel language!" _a Burmese Python hissed excitedly.

Cyrus wasn't sure what to say, he had never heard himself hiss before and he wasn't aware that talking snakes existed. He felt confused and looked at the python to stutter, "_I-I-" _before stopping himself at noticing the hiss again. His mind didn't know how to compute the information and just wondered how many other people could speak the 'parsel language.' It was a fascinating moment for his young mind and he carried on cautiously, _"I think ssso...Can you underssstand me?"_

Every snake hissed in excitement at hearing this and began to slither forward in their aquariums to form an audience. A death adder ignored the boy's question and quickly asked in an encouraged voice,"_What type of familiar isss our ssspeaker ssseeking?"_

This was easy for Cyrus, he answered with a resolute demeanor, "_I want a familiar that isss powerful..."_

The death adder elegantly spun around its tree branch within its cage before jovially responding, _"Aw... there are many powerful familiarsss in thiss layer, but it isss I that am mosst powe-"_

A spitting cobra cut him off and slithered to the edge of its aquarium,_"Do not lisssten to thiss foolissh ssserpent massster! For I am the mosst powerful of usss all, there is no disspu-" _

Yet another serpent interrupted its brethren and hissed, _"Vile sscoundrelss! Thessse are liesss ssspeaker! _the russell viper glowered at his two companions before it turned its eyes back upon her speaker and finished proudly, _"__**My**__ venom iss the mossst deadly among usss masster."_

"_Liesss!" _still another serpent intervened.

Soon, a chorus of hissing burst from the entire side of the wall nearest to Cyrus. There were accusations and insults flying every direction and little was understood over the racket. Each snake had its say and many snapped at each other through the glass walls of their aquariums trying to prove who the fiercest serpent among them was. It was such a thrilling experience for Cyrus that he nearly forgot he was able to speak to them for a moment and was about to tap on one of their aquariums before he heard a booming hiss of _"Sssilence!"_ issued from above him. The cobra on the top right shelf had come out underneath its rock in a commanding presence with its hood extended.

In no time at all the room was quiet enough to hear a fairy's breath. Every snake in the room had instantaneously focused on the raspy hiss issued from the top corner.

It was a black Indian Cobra with a red underbelly and beaming red eyes along with a design of emerald diamonds on the back of his hood instead of the traditional two-eyed pattern to fool predators.

"_Ssserpent child... what iss the name of our sspeaker?" _the cobra asked respectfully with an ever present sinister rasp.

The snake appeared to be a leader of some sorts to the boy, he was glad to be making some progress now and replied _"Cyrus Black," _in a confident manner.

"_Very well sspeaker," _the cobra replied in a satisfied tone._ "You wissh to know of the most powerful ssserpent, I am Tyranicusss Ssevincore...Ssevinss iss preferable if you pleassse. I come from a great line of sserpentss, it iss I that reign in thisss layer and it iss I that have been given the title asss mosst powerful among uss,' _he looked menacingly at the other snakes around him as he hissed his claim with a drop of shiny jet black venom trickling down his left fang. Cyrus noticed that no one dared to challenge his authority now and when the snake had everyone's attention he went on in his imperious hiss, _"I can sseparate the powerlessss from the powerful and the liarsss from the truth tellersss... If you ssso dessire, I will take the life of your enemy or petrify the weak minded by revealing my true eyesss. I am your rightful familiar, massster."_

The other snakes hissed madly in evident jealously but said nothing to provoke the cobra. Cyrus was examining Sevins in awe, he appeared majestic but also deadly and aggressive with his bright red eyes and underbelly. There was no way to accurately determine its length in the coiled position it was in, but if he had to guess he would say it to be around six feet. This was the familiar he wanted, not only did he seem to exercise dominion over all other serpents in the room but his listed abilities were of a great value to him as a 'speaker.' Cyrus still wasn'tfully aware of what being a speaker meant and he didn't know if all magical snakes could communicate with witches and wizards, but he planned on asking his Uncle Sev as soon as he could show him Sevins. He could hardly contain his jubilation now and wanted to show his new godfather as soon as possible.

The boy looked up at Sevins and asked hopefully,_"Isss thiss what you wissh?"_

"_It would be an honor my ssspeaker," _Sevins answered humbly.

Cyrus smiled and glanced over at the snobby looking girl to ask her how to reach the aquariums on the upper shelves but noticed that she was still gaping at him. She had neared back towards the door looking too frightened to speak but he noticed a folded foot ladder that he had missed on his way in leaning on the wall she was next to and rushed over to it. The sign on the door said to notify a staff member if a snake had recognized a familiar but he was too anxious and the crackpot rule didn't mean anything to him anyway.

The girl inhaled sharply when she saw him sit the ladder down on the corner of the third wall near the cobras and vipers. Prior to mounting the ladder Cyrus looked up at Sevins and said,

"_If you are my familiar...Will you protect me and my family Ssevinss? And do you ssswear to not harm anyone I do not assk you to?"_

Sevins looked slightly surprised for a cobra and responded, _"Of courssse ssspeaker, I will do anything my masster wisshes of me."_

At this, Cyrus stepped up the ladder and slowly lifted the top of the aquarium with a steady hand. Sevins didn't move as Cyrus cautiously moved his hand towards the cobra and waited for his familiar. Once his hand was lowered into the aquarium Sevins flickered his tongue a few times before slithering up the boy's arm and gracefully resting himself over his shoulder's while wrapping his lower body around his waist. Cyrus felt a sense of security and protection from the cool reptile as it slithered itself around his body and he couldn't hep but feeling a more confident air around him.

A he was about to walk out of the room the girl stopped him at the door and finally broke her silence. Cyrus expected her to have a snotty tone before she opened her mouth but it was quite innocent.

"I'm Pansy" she said looking at the snake hesitantly, "What's your name?"

Just over her shoulders Cyrus could see Uncle Sev in an intent conversation with a staff member with a grey rat in his hands. He wanted to hurry up and sneak over to the rabbit section as well before his Godfather was done with the him. There was nothing to stop the man from allowing him to get a gift for his Uncle Lucius, but he thought it would be hard enough to convince him that it was alright to let him keep an Indian Cobra as a familiar. To Cyrus, having Sevins and a rabbit already in hand seemed like it would discourage the potions master from denying him.

He turned to the girl and said proudly, "Cyrus Black," before he turned to walk out the door without another word. It was rude but he didn't ever think he'd see the girl again and she would only keep him from getting his Uncle Lucius a rabbit, which was something Cyrus felt he should have after reading its tag.

He saw that his godfather's back was still turned and talking to the owner about his rat as he approached the rabbits. Noticing that he was still unseen, he turned to his familiar and hissed, _"Ssevinss, we need to find a sssuitable garden rabbit for my uncle. It can help protect usss."_

Sevins looked at Cyrus with doubtful eyes and said slowly, _"Very few of thesse creaturess are known to be powerful masster...none will be worthy..."_

Cyrus glanced down at his familiar with a humorous look before he halted and began observing the rabbits. To him these creatures provided a protection his family could use, and might have been able to use years ago. He remembered the raids on the Malfoy Manor during his childhood as aurors looked for convicted families on the run, documents that could be used for evidence, or other items such as banned magical instruments that they claimed were hidden about the house. Lucius would often come home after several days of being in a holding cell with a swollen face and robes tattered to rags. They had no usable evidence to pin on the man after he bought out nearly half the Wizengamot, but the Light was willing to bend rules to get answers and they ultimately did what was needed to be done to win the boy's entire family, past and present, had known no other life than constant fear and assault since his birth. Cyrus wanted every possible measure to ensure that his loved ones would never have to endure that pain again, Dark magical creatures seemed to be a source of powerful magic that was rarely relied upon.

As they passed by each cage he noticed that the over-sized garden rabbits all appeared frightened and backed away at the sight of his familiar. He viewed this as a sign of weakness from the creatures and moved on before giving any of them a chance. One by one he rejected their presence in a moment's notice and went on to examine the next rabbit. It was an unsatisfying experience for the boy, he was nearly done looking at the lousy rabbits after five minutes and not one of them gave a single sign of being unique or powerful in any way. Cyrus was about to turn around and leave when he heard his familiar speak.

"_Massster! I sssensse a rodent!...It isss of worthy power.."_Sevins rasped mystically and shot his head up to look around in all directions for the rabbit he sought. It was a brief few seconds before he identified the target in the middle of the room by extending his body his body in its direction and anxiously snapping, _"Over here masster! The rabbit you ssseek!"_

Cyrus looked over to where Sevins was stretching his body towards and saw several infant and adult rabbits huddled closely within a circular pin that was presumably a pair of mates with their litter. Both parents seemed uncomfortable as he neared the pin and were watching the boy and his familiar intently. The mother's fur was snow white in color while the father's was of a smokey grey hue, and with the exception of one kit that was all black in color, their offspring were also white or smokey grey. Cyrus was sure he knew which one Sevins was speaking of and instinctively shot out his arm to let him slither down and rest his head near his hand as he reached out towards the huddled mass of fur.

By this time Snape had finished purchasing his rat and had just found Cyrus as he was reaching for the infant rabbits with a deadly serpent wrapped around his arm. He nearly dropped his rat cage when he saw the cobra's head hovering inches above the boy's wrist and had to recheck his vision to acknowledge the reality of what he was seeing by closing and reopening his eyes several times. Even in the wizarding world, handling a venomous snake like the cobra was unheard of. Cyrus was unaware of his godfather's presence and continued looking down at the rabbit family while his hand hovered above them. It appeared to Severus that his hand was moving on from each rabbit after having seen it tremble at the sight of what had to be his new familiar. A part of the professor wanted to impulsively rush over to Cyrus and save him from the serpent but his feet were nailed to the ground in utter disbelief at how the cobra was behaving. The professor was entranced, not only was the boy handling the cobra but he was somehow willing it from attacking the scrumptious baby rabbits perfectly within its striking distance. There was only one person that he had ever known in his lifetime that had such an affinity with serpents and he was also the only wizard that could ever strike fear into his heart. 'It...it's impossible..' the professor thought frantically to himself, while doing nothing to hide the obvious fright in his cold eyes. Snape was feeling the Dark Lord reach out from his very grave and shaking the foundation on which he stood, rewinding horrendous memories of bloodshed and torture that he had long since suppressed.

Cyrus's hand was now over the all black rabbit, it was the last one and he believed it was the creature his familiar was referring to. There was no other in the room quite like it, both her eyes and fur were jet black and she didn't flinch when Cyrus's hand stopped above her. She tilted her head upwards slightly to see the serpent on the boy's wrist but stood her ground and seemed quite apathetic. Nothing in her eyes represented fear or trepidation, only acceptance. When he withdrew his arm she began to slant her head to the side in interest and soon twitched her tail in what seemed to be approval. Her parents looked as though they wanted to intervene as Cyrus moved in to scoop the kit into his hands but glanced timidly at Sevins instead. The rabbit fit nicely into Cyrus's palms and she glanced at her new owner as he picked her up with even darker eyes than his new godfathers. At the moment he stared back into the rabbit's gaze he was instantly reminded of his Severus and looked up to see where he was and saw the pair of eyes he was reminded of. Snape's face was unfathomably paler than usual and it was clear he was having a difficult time articulating the words coming to his mind.

Cyrus was aware of his godfather's shock and cut to merrily reassure him, "Don't worry Uncle Sev, he's my new familiar! He said he wouldn't harm family or friends..." The boy seemed to believe that his godfather would discover he was a speaker at this and that everything would be explained. He didn't understand the weight of his remark and looked down at the rabbit he was holding to ask hopefully, "Uncle Sev, may I get the rabbit for Uncle Lucius's manor as well...please?"

Snape took a minute to regain his composure but gave a faint nod before he even set his eyes on the animal. He didn't have a care in the world for garden rabbits at the moment, his worst fear had just been confirmed and the reflection of terror traced onto his face was more evident than ever. Memories of Lord Voldemort were creeping back into his mind now but knew what to do and wanted to leave the store as quickly as possible He called for the owner on the other side of the room and gestured for Cyrus to follow him to the exit while he tried to regain control of his mind.

They had been in the shop for nearly half an hour and now that he was aware of the this shocking discovery, he wanted to hurry and make one last stop before returning the boy to Lucius and Bella. Not only did his parsel abilities represent one of the most powerful and destructive types of magic, it was also only possessed by the Slytherin bloodline. For a Black to possess such powers was beyond mysterious for the potion's master. He would have never believed it if he didn't see it for himself but the rumors he had heard had not just been inflated tidbits of truth or complete lies this time around, this boy was a fascinating and unique case of study for this ability alone. It was an exceptional discovery for his first day with him and he believed that if he played his cards right it could be his first chance to encourage his godson on the right path. Snape knew that Lucius and Bella would rummage through Lord Voldemort's personal library to no endand give the boy all the books they could possibly find on subject once they found out he was a parselmouth. Now was potentially his best opportunity to influence Cyrus's education on the matter, which became a great area of concern for him upon seeing his familiar.

Parselmagic did not exclusively focus on the Dark Arts and destructive forces, but held other branches of magic such as Parsel charms and potions that most of his 'predecessor' never cared to learn. He became aware of this knowledge through Nicholas Flamel and hoped that once he shared it with the boy he would see what other types of magic were capable of and be drawn towards them instead of immersing himself into the Dark Arts. Though the Dark Arts were a magic that ran through Cyrus's veins, under the wrong guidance such as Bellatrix's or Lucius's, it was an addictive force that lead to a life of power craving and a perspective defined by absolutes. It was true that the Light was just as uncompromising, hypocritical, and ruthless in its methods as the Dark, but Snape was fearful of what another Dark Lord would mean. Not only could another one possibly lead the Dark into extinction in England, but he might bring about the same reign of terror they had just defeated. Severus found himself in a position of conflicted responsibility now. His mind desired a final peace and feared the rise of another Dark Lord or a repeat of massacre, but his soul still demanded justice and inevitable war. The fact that his godson, Cyrus Black, was potentially endowed with the power to force wizarding England back into the depths of bloodshed was a nightmare that he could only approach with extreme caution.

As they approached the exit Snape already had the exact amount of 33 galleons counted and was ready to ignore the owner's astonishment altogether. Over fifteen minutes was spent on getting supplies for his rat and he didn't want to waste another second trying to explain to the owner why an Indian cobra was contently wrapped around his godson's shoulders either. He extended a hand as the owner's eyes identified the familiar wrapped around Cyrus's shoulders and was going to gasp in fright but was stopped as the bag of galleons dropped in his hand. Snape curtly thanked the owner as he grabbed Cryus's hand with a fearful eye on Sevins, and then said in the most intimidating voice he could muster "The boy is under _my _protection Hans, he will be fine. Good day."

It was a very awkward and brief encounter but Severus had a talent for intimidating others into silence, as he often did with his students. They could hear the flabbergasted man yell after them about a cage as he closed the shop door but the owner made no effort to run after the threatening potion's master. Cyrus was bewildered now at seeing how his godfather reacted to the situation. He knew it would be a surprise that he could talk to his familiar but he didn't believe it warranted such behavior from his godfather, or the owner of the store. Questions were forming in his mind while they neared the main street of Diagon Alley but before he could articulate any of them Severus exhaled heavily and spoke in a solemn tone, "Hide your familiar under your robes and do not speak to each other in public. Is that clear? We have one more stop before we meet with your Aunt Bella and Uncle Lucius."

Cyrus, who had been practically forced out of the shop within a minute of seeing his godfather, was rarely as puzzled as he presently was but nodded obediently. He left the Lestrange Manor with an eager anticipation for his wand and now his head was spinning with questions he wasn't sure how to ask. 'Maybe there aren't many speakers...' Cyrus thought, 'But why must I hide Sevins?' It was strange that he could unconsciously speak a language that belonged to serpents, but didn't understand why it mattered if others heard him or not. 'Would everyone think I'm weird?' his thoughts rambled on.

Nothing seemed to make much sense to him but after the moment's pause he sent a bone chilling_ s_ensation up his godfather's body by hissing his orders to his familiar_._ Sevins was not pleased with the commands or the greasy haired man giving them, but he obeyed his master and sluggishly slithered under the boy's robes.

By now Snape had conjured two small pieces of parchment and a charmed turkey quill that began scribbling a message on the pages in midair. Cyrus looked up at Uncle Sev and rapidly thought of the first question he should ask, hardly caring for what the letters had to say. He was happy with his new godfather for allowing him to keep his deadly familiar and was even more grateful that he bought him the infant garden rabbit, which appeared impressively fearless to the new world around him while sitting in his hand. Cyrus didn't know if he could confide in the man, but he felt like he could ask him the questions burning inside of him and finally spoke up.

"Uncle Sev..." he started cautiously, "the snakes at the store told me I was a 'speaker.' Does that mean some wizards can't speak with them?...Can you?"

At once, Severus's thought's were yanked from Lord Voldemort at hearing this and held in a rare chuckle. The boy's innocent curiosity towards a discovery that would likely make headlines of every major wizarding publication across Europe, if anyone were to find out, was rather amusing to the potions master. He lowered his voice so that only his godson could hear him and muttered, "You are a parseltounge Cyrus. I will explain this to you when we are in private, it is not a conversation you want overheard. It will... frighten most wizards."

It took a few seconds to sink in but Snape could see the gleam in the child's eyes and the smile that began to curl in his lips after he said this. The tinge of amusement that overcame him previously vanished as remembered how he had discovered Cyrus's parseltounge abilities. He had found the boy standing over the pin of rabbits and using his familiar coiled around his arm to select what Snape now presumed to be the most powerful creature among them. He had used fear as a technique to eliminate the weak, the same method Lord Voldemort himself was accustomed to employing on his own followers. He seethed angrily as he imagined Cyrus's childhood with Bellatrix and Lucius and the twisted perspectives that they ingrained in his young mind. The turkey pen scribbled furiously as it finished the second letter and Snape grabbed them both, folded them into a pocket sized note, and gave them to his rat that he had just let out of its cage. The grey rat took the notes into his mouth, which were hastily addressed to Lucius and Flamel, and ran down Snape's leg to a nearby sewer gutter they had just passed. Cyrus had hardly paid attention to his godfather while lost in his thoughts and jumped to ask him what they were doing as he saw the Leaky Cauldron's door not far in front of him.

"Why are we back at the Leaky Cauldron?" he asked curiously. "Is there something you need here Uncle Sev?"

"There is something I have for you Cyrus, you will see it soon enough." Snape replied and grabbed Cyrus's hand as he headed towards the Leaky Cauldron.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

As they entered the Leaky Cauldron, Snape swept across the shabby tavern in a dash with Cyrus in hand and halted at a rather large fire place designated for the floo network. He looked down at Cyrus while he reached for the floo powder on a nearby mantle and spoke in a terse manner, "I believe this will be your first time to see Hogwarts Cyrus…" he paused as the boy's eyes lit up before continuing,"unfortunately our visit must be brief. I sent word to your Uncle telling him to expect us no later than one, and knowing Lucius it wouldn't be wise to keep him waiting. Follow me and try to keep any questions you might have to yourself until later, we haven't any time to dilly-dally right now."

With that Cyrus eagerly went forward with his godfather as they stepped into the fireplace together. Once situated, Snape enunciated "Three broomsticks, Hogsmeade," as he threw the floo powder at their feet. With a green flash they disappeared and felt themselves being squeezed through a wormhole before neatly landing on a creaky floorboard belonging to their destination. They quickly made their way through a sea of strangers swarming the bar area - most of whom stepped aside at the first site of Snape - and immediately exited onto the main road of Hogsmeade. The sight was magical to any newcomer, with a cobblestone road packed with colorful witches and wizards in transit from one shop to another, exchanging their casual pleasantries and levitating their newly purchased items along the way. Snape merely breezed past them without so much as giving a second glance, but Cryus captured the spectacle around him in awe. It wasn't necessarily the presence of Hogsmeade that caught his attention though, but instead the grand mountains and majestic castle that he could more accurately discern with each step. Never in his life, in picture, painting, or story, had he ever seen such a grand castle. He thought he counted at least twenty turrets and six sky scraping towers as they neared the main entrance, it was the most breathtaking and heavenly site he believed he had ever witnessed.

Once inside the castle Cyrus began to gasp at every corner they turned. As they passed the entrance hall he could see the different houses sitting down for lunch beneath a charmed ceiling that represented a starry night sky. While he caught a last glimpse of the entrance hall and the owls swooping over head to drop off the mail post to the faculty and students he felt Snape's pace accelerate just a tad. Turning a corner with an aisle of stone knight statues lining both walls, Severus took the nearest staircase leading towards the dungeons until they encountered another separate winding staircase built into the stone wall. It took them about another five minutes until they reached Snape's office in the dungeons and settled themselves in chairs separated by his main desk.

The potion's master reached for a drawer and pulled out two tattered books that appeared to be centuries old and laid it in front of Cyrus. One was labeled "_Potion's and Charm's of the Serpent-tounge" _while the other was simply titled, "_The Ways of Parsel."_ Snape eyed the boy examining the texts in front of him for a moment, inhaled a deep breath, and began to speak.

"These…" he began gesturing to the two books, "are gifts I received from an old friend of mine. I believe you will find more use in these than I, as my studies are purely academic while yours would be… rather practical," he finished delicately. "They are one of a kind and over two hundred years old, so I ask that you would take care of these with the utmost care Mr. Black."

"Yes sir, I thank you…but I'm not sure I understand," he replied weakly. "Why are you giving these to me? These must be quite valuable sir, and I bet there's loads of witches and wizards that can speak with snakes. So why must I hide my fami-"

"No Cyrus….there are very few indeed," Snape cut in solemnly,"In fact, to _my _knowledge you are the onlyparseltounge currently in existence. How it is that a _Black _has been gifted with such a rare ability is beyond me, as it exclusively belongs to the Slytherin bloodline. As you are obviously not yet aware, you'll find that the last wizard that was known to have been able to speak with serpents was the Dark Lord himself," he all but muttered as he inspected the boy in front of him.

"Once your Uncle Lucius and Aunt Bella become aware of this information, they will undoubtedly impart onto you whatever knowledge they have stored away on the subject as well. However, I ask that you study these first… as I believe it will give you a proper introduction."

"Yes sir," Cyrus replied timidly but continued with a strong urge of curiosity. "But why is it that I must hide my familiar?"

"…You will learn that this ability allows you to manipulate magic in ways others cannot,' the professor explained. "The runes used in the creation of spells can be altered with different languages from a variety of magical creatures, which is in part why elves, goblins, and other creatures use a different type of magic than ourselves. Serpents are happen to be considered dark magical creatures, which is why paresltounge is deemed a dark magical trait. But it also happens to be one of the more powerful and destructive types of magic and have been wielded by a number of individuals that much of the wizarding world would rather forget," he hesitated before continuing. "In all…. If anyone were to find out of your newfound ability, it would likely make headlines, which is why I think it would be best if you didn't reveal this to the public. Although it is of course…. _your_ decision… as to whether or not you conceal your familiar, I thought you might not want the attention or suspicion that a cobramight bring," Snape finished with a hint of sarcasm. "Which reminds me Cyrus… did anyone hear you speak to Sevins in the shop while you were searching for your familiar?"

"Yes sir," Cyrus replied abruptly as he remembered the girl who introduced herself in the shop. "She was my age… I think here name was Pansy, dark hair, brown eyes, about my height-"

Snape slapped his hand to his forehead as his elbow landed on his desk and let out a grumble.."_Parkinson_ I presume?"

Cyrus thought for a moment before shrugging and saying "I'm not sure sir, I don't believe she told me her surname. Does it matter?"

"If it's a bloody Parkinson then yes…." Snape sighed. 'Pansy bloody Parkinson and her snooty parents, the whole world will know any moment now,' he thought to himself. "No matter…" he continued after a couple moments of thought. " I'll speak with her parents tonight on the subject, but right now we must head back to meet your Aunt and Uncle. Do you have any questions about what I've told you?"

Cyrus's mind was stirring with the information just given, he knew there were a number of questions that would occur later on, but at the moment he only had two questions he was itching to ask. He looked up to meet Severus's gaze and asked, "You said Voldemort… the Dark Lord, could also speak with snakes. Did he learn parselmagic too?"

Snape paused for another moment deciding how to answer the boy's childish question and then said delicately, "Yes… the Dark Lord could wield this ability as well, however, he was also corrupted by it. It is known to be a very dark type of magic… and the Dark Lord indulged himself almost exclusively in its destructive forces. One he immersed himself in the Dark Arts, he never cared to learn its other branches of magic. As you are hopefully aware, Dark magic can be an addictive force if not moderated and tempered by its other branches, and unfortunately Voldemort had a one track mind."

"Yes sir…" Cyrus replied hesitantly, "and you said that only the Slytherin bloodline possessed parletounge abilities…. Why do I possess this ability too Uncle Sev? I'm a Black."

"I do not know….It is possible that the Black's are distantly related to the Slytherin bloodline, though doubtful…But then… I suppose it's possible…" He said with an absent minded mutter and reminded himself to ask Flamel about this later. "I'll do my best to investigate this matter for you, but I would ask you to keep this information to yourself for your own good, which I'm sure your Uncle Lucius and Aunt Bella will agree with… Speaking of whom, I believe that its time to return to them now," he finished as he got up from his chair. "Is there anything else?"

"…. I don't believe so, not for now anyway" Cryus responded with an aristocratic composure as he rose from his seat. "Thank you Uncle Sev, for telling me this. I'll be sure to start reading these tonight.

"Good, and see to it that you do not began any other studies before you read the first one, _Ways of Parsel. _ It is imperative that you do so."

Cyrus gave a faint nod and with that they both walked towards the office door and made their way out of the castle and back to Hogsmeade to floo back to Diagon Alley. Cyrus of course was asking questions concerning the Hogwarts castle the entire way. He couldn't fathom the castles immense size and the countless amount of protections and luxuries that it offered, believing that a small army could reside comfortably in the castle for many years.

Once they arrived in Diagon Alley they saw Lucius and Bellatrix waiting outside the back of the Leaky Cauldron where they had split up over and our ago, pacing back and forth impatiently for their young ward. Cyrus started to run towards his aunt and uncle just as they looked up to see him with a jet black rabbit in hand and Sevin's head peeking from under his robes, who Cryus had decided to conceal after all despite the cobra's displeasure with the arrangement. He was now aware of the ramifications if anyone were to discover he was a parslemouth and thought it wise to follow the professor's advice for the time being.

Lucius dropped his jaw a bit with widened eyes of curiosity at the sight of his familiar as Bellatrix clasped her hands and stood with absolute wonder written across her face, momentarily disregarding the head Malfoy's astonishment. Snape followed closely behind Cyrus as the boy was running up to his aunt and uncle, unable to contain his excitement, "Aunt Bella! Uncle Lucius!" I have a familiar now! Look! His name is Sevins! Uncle Sev and I were at Han's and Fred'slooking around and when I started to look at the snakes…I…I could hear them! It was _incredible_! Sevins said he's going to help protect us! And I also got you a rabbit Uncle Lucius! He's going to help protect the Malfoy manor as well!" Cyrus finished proudly as he held out the rabbit for Lucius to take. The boy's uncle ignored the rabbit for a moment as he stood in shock, his eyes still pinned on the cobra wrapped under his child's cloak. For the first time in many years Lucius Malfoy was speechless, there were simply no words for the phenomenon. As he slowly reached out to take the rabbit he felt a surprising rush of magic while receiving it, not entirely aware of what to expect from the simple garden rabbit.

Snape cut in to reaffirm what Lucius had just heard as Bella stood by attentively, enamored by Cyrus's new familiar. "To make it short, as I'm sure you both might be well aware by now, we have discovered that Cyrus here is a parslemouth. I've also already taken the liberty of giving him a couple of my books on the subject, which explains our delay… The boy is quite the enigma…Lucius." the professor quietly finished with a slight tone of suspicion as passerby's began to near.

"Indeed Severus…" Lucius replied in his silky yet casual tone as he ruffled Cyrus's hair like a proud father. He put a large smile on after few seconds while giving Bellatrix an approving nod, "Our boy's a marvel among wizards! This news calls for celebration! A parselmouth in our own family!"

"My own blood!" Bellatrix gasped boastfully as she knelt down to meet her child. "Oh Cryus! My little serpent…" she continued in a motherly fashion with a hand caressing his cheek. "To think… Merlin blessing us with a parselmouth in the family. You make the House of Black so proud dear." She kissed him on the forehead as Sevins poked his head out to hiss something into Cyrus's ear while examining the woman that had just showered his master with praise.

Cyrus thought for a moment about what Sevins just hissed. 'An heir of Slytherin?' Cyrus paused mentally as he saw Lucius and Bella stare down a few strangers passing by looking at Cyrus and his familiar. Lucius then turned to Cyrus and asked, "Does anyone else know of this?"

"Pansy Parkinson," Snape cut in with a sneer.

Lucius instantly reacted in a similar manner that Snape had displayed not too long ago, with a slap to the forehead and an exhausted sight. "I'll have to contact them tonight, this news can't be muddled by the bloody Parkinsons," he grumbled in frustration. "We'll contact Skeeter tonight as well… An unkown heir to the great Salazar Slytherin! Dumbledore won't know what hit him…" he concluded with a slight smile and a near whisper. Lucius knew the kind of public reaction that this news would garner, not to mention the suspicion that Cyrus could eventually receive by both Dark and Light families. However, he believed it was time to start rebuilding the Dark forces and knew this was precisely the type of news that could help perpetuate such a movement.

After they had finished showering praise on their young parslemouth, Lucius gave Cyrus yet another proud nod of affection and asked, "Lets say we take a trip to Knockturn Alley for your wand?"

While Cyrus nodded in excitement and took Uncle Lucius's hand he turned to Snape, still pale faced and unsure of what to do as he stood stone still, and asked, "Aren't you coming Uncle Sev?"

Severus thought about contacting Flamel or perhaps even going back to Dumbledore to report the news on Cyrus, particularly after seeing Lucius's reaction. Still, he knew this could wait and he wanted to see if the boy had any more surprises up his sleeve while getting his wand. He turned to Bella and Malfoy to speak but before he could get a word out he was interrupted.

"Unfortunately…I believe that Professor Snape has business to attend to at Hogwarts. He's a busy man, isn't that right?" Lucius asked, daring Severus to contradict him. After discovering that Cyrus was a parselmouth he became uneasy in sharing anymore about the boy. Furthermore, he knew he wouldn't have a chance to meet with either Dumbledore or Flamel until later that evening due to the Wizengamot meeting at the ministry, by which time Lucius would be able to chat with the professor.

As Snape felt the cold glares coming from both Bellatrix and Lucius he decided it was best to take the hint and nodded curtly before looking down at Cyrus. "Yes… I do believe there are other urgent matters that require my attention at the moment, but I'm quite certain I'll be seeing you at your… _celebration_," the potions master pronounced carefully. "I expect you to be reading the books I've given you until then." With that he looked back up at Lucius's and Bella's glare of warning to gesture his goodbye with a polite tilt of the head and strode off in the other direction.

Lucius resented the fact that he had invited his old friend along for the day but nevertheless smiled in satisfaction with him gone, just starting to make his way to Knockturn Alley with Cyrus in hand. Along the way they walked pass a number of staring strangers that Bellatrix stared off with nasty glares and insults, accusing the mudbloods of crowding the streets at every corner. The cobblestone roads leading to their destination were barely wide enough for a single car if there were any, and it always made it appear busier than it actually was. Just as they were about to turn in to Knockturn Alley the Notts passed by and looked as if they were going to greet them but appeared suspicious when they saw the young Black heir with a cobra peeping his head out beneath his robes. Lucius turned with his rabbit in hand and gave a slight nod as he turned the corner into Knockturn Alley while Bella merely waved back in courtesy at their curious expressions.

Lucius waited until they got close to their destination and spoke quietly to Cyrus,"We have an appointment scheduled at Gringotts tomorrow concerning your… inheritance,_" _he chose his last word tactfully, "however, as you've informed me that this new revelation isn't exactly a secret… I think it might be best that we try and reschedule for today, before tomorrow's Daily Prophet is printed.

The boy looked up with a perplexed contortion on his face as his uncle looked down at him with a smile, scheming in his mind. Now that he knew the Parkisons were aware of Cyrus's parselmouth ability he wanted to be sure that he was first to talk with the Daily Prophet. Lucius wanted to be sure that the headlines would only confirm that their was indeed a living heir of Slytherin - which only a Gringotts blood test could prove beyond a doubt - without identifying the individual. This was among one of the many reasons that he didn't want Severus tagging along, as his presence was no longer required and another snooping nose served no purpose other than to possibly reveal Cyrus's identiy.

Just as Cyrus was about to ask his uncle to elaborate on what he had just been told Lucius took a sharp turn and opened the door leading into _Gregorovitch's. _Gregorovitch was another leading wand craftsman in Europe that left Germany to cater to the wealthy dark blooded families of England before the end of the war. The old man was on the verge of retirement and felt that his services were no longer required now that the Dark had been nearly defeated. He was seen bent over his mahogany desk writing on a piece of parchment, muttering something to himself incoherently as they walked through the door.

Gregorovitch looked up to see Lucius and Bellatrix guiding their young ward and his new familiar through door, eyeing the boy skeptically. He rose with a smile and said softly,"You must be young Master Black… I was wondering when I'd be seeing you in here. I've heard quite a bit about _you _my boy… and by appearances…" Gregorovitch eyed the cobra wrapped around the child's robes, "rumors have served to be true for once."

Cyrus, who was used to this kind of attention by now, responded courteously, "Thank you sir, I've been waiting to get my wand for as long I can remember! I'm glad to finally meet you."

"Yes, yes… the pleasure is all mine Master Black," Gregorovitch responded politely, "Now, if we shall get down to business… wand arm if you please?"

Cyrus held out his left arm as the old shopkeeper started to measure him up and down until he finally went behind the counter to lay out several long boxes. He opened up the first one and motioned the boy towards him while handing him the wand.

"Dragon heart-string and beach wood…Go on, give it a go," Gregorovitch directed excitedly.

Cyrus flicked the wand as everyone watched eagerly but nothing happened. He looked disappointed as the old man replaced the wand in his hand and said, "How about this one, Thestral hair and Elmwood."

Once again he obeyed the man and gave the wand a flick. This time a small force was emitted that went zooming across the room to shatter a small vase.

"No….no, not this one," the shopkeeper said hoarsely while snatching it from the boy. He took out several more boxes and Cyrus tried over and over again until a puzzled look overcame Gregorovitch's face. Nearly twenty boxes were stacked on the counter and each wand had a similar reaction to Cyrus's touch. Not a single one had shown any sign of acceptance or compatibility whatsoever.

"Tricky customer eh?" Gregorovitch mused as he looked at Cyrus with a curious eye. He could now feel the magical aura emanating from the frustrated child, one he wasn't sure that he had ever felt before except maybe in the presence of the Dark Lord. Again, he noticed the cobra comfortably situating itself around Cyrus's shoulders and his emerald green Slytherin eyes gleaming back at him. "I wonder…" he spoke mysteriously after nearly a full minute.

Gregorovitch rushed behind his counter and went to the far back to fetch a small foot stool. He reached behind a number of wands at the very top shelf and came down with a dark green leather box, eyeing the boy in a suspicious manner once again before walking back to the counter. His hands trembled slightly as he opened the box and hesitantly handed the wand to Cryus, saying nothing of its specifications this time.

Cyrus observed the wand for a moment before taking it. It had a tarnished silver handle with several letters he innately recognized as parsel-language inscribed around the edges, along with a smooth black rod that protruded about a foot from the base. The moment he grasped the wand a sensation of magic surged throughout his body resulting in an explosion of magic. A blinding green flash of light and a gush of wind filled the room, causing several boxes to be blown off of the counter. Lucius and Bellatrix appeared quite disheveled with their long hair blown to the side matching their bewildered dispositions, neither one willing to speak just yet.

"Curious….. very curious indeed," Gregorovitch muttered as he went back to his desk to document the sale.

At hearing this Bellatrix recovered and demanded immediately, "Why? What's so curious?"

Gregorvitch slowly rose from his desk as an old man would and responded in an arcane manner, "Well Mrs. Lestrange…during the days of the Hogwarts founders…" he paused momentarily to find the right words, "Salazar Slytherin crafted a number of wands for his...uh…descendants. It was said that the great basilisk serpents were going extinct at the time, and so naturally… the founder of Slytherin wanted to ensure that his bloodline would be protected with the same powers that protected himself. The wand is made of a rare ebony wood with a core of basilisk venom, extraordinarily powerful… supposedly only able to be possessed and tamed by Slytherin's heirs. It is one of a few still in existence today in fact…" he lowered his voice before continuing. "I was assigned to find this for the Dark Lord himself, but unfortunately it was only after his fall that I was able to uncover it. So as I said…it is curious that a _Black _should be fated for a wand exclusively destined for _Slytherin_ blood."

"Is that so…" Lucius stated with absolute amazement, never having heard of such a legend. Then again, he supposed it was probably only those that studied wandlore that would be aware of such information.

"It is," Gregorovitch said quietly while turning to the slightly trembling boy with a wide smile. "You, my boy... have made my long awaited retirement worth waiting for. I am deeply honored to have been able to serve one of Slytherin's heirs. I believe that we should expect great things from you _Mr. Black_," the old man continued darkly, "Do not listen to whatever the weak might say of the Dark, fools will always lurk in the shadows of fear and ignorance. _You_ are destined for greatnessboy."

Cyrus stared at the mystical old shopkeeper in wonder as he finished, not knowing how to respond. He could only manage to let a quiet "thank you, sir" slip from his tongue as Sevins coiled around his left arm, hissing his praise. 'How can I be Slytherin's heir,' he thought to himself, 'I'm a Black….and a _Potter. _This doesn't make any sense…'

As Cyrus's thoughts were running rampant Lucius walked over to pay the old man but couldn't get a single galleon from his bag before Gregorovitch cut in quietly. "Your money is no good here Mr. Malfoy. Accepting payment for this wand would be a dishonor to the Dark's cause."

Lucius almost acted as if this was expected as he withdrew his galleon bag, though would have probably been offended if it had been under any other circumstance. He nodded in satisfaction towards the man and looked over at Cyrus in approval, whose untidy raven hair was now being groomed by Bellatrix as she affectionately whispered her praise, _"Such a precious boy. You make the House of Black so proud dear…"_

"Well done Cyrus, well done. You make us _all _proud." Lucius said magnanimously as he began to walk towards the exit to open the door, "Shall we?"

With that Cyrus said his thanks once again as Bella ushered him out the door and back onto the streets of Knockturn Alley, Lucius following closely behind. Cyrus's thoughts immediately turned to his upcoming appointment as Lucius and Bella stared down the strangers on the way to Gringotts. He had no idea what to expect and had an urge to ask Uncle Lucius exactly why he had scheduled the meeting, and why it mattered that it was taken care of before the next morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. However, the massive white columned bank was already seen in the distance and he figured that he would discover his Uncle's reasoning soon enough. After all, the head of the Malfoy house was like a father to the boy and had never lead him astray.

As they neared the gigantic oak doors of Gringotts the two guards outside immediately moved aside at the sight of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. The commanding 'respect' and fear the public acknowledged their presence with had always inspired both Draco and Cyrus to look up to them in admiration. He too desired the same respect his and Aunt and Uncle received, and it was ingrained in his mind at a very young age that such respect was his birthright. The fact that he could also be Slytherin's heir was certainly a mystery to him, but it created a growing anticipation as he walked into the bank – hardly grasping the full ramifications of the news he would make if it were indeed true.

The goblins that occupied the desks lining the entrance hall were busy at work and didn't even bother to look up at the arriving guests until Lucius made his way to the front desk at the far end of the building and stated his name.

"Lucius Malfoy, here to see Chief Bogrod, bank president… concerning an appointment with my nephew, Cyrus Black."

"Ah… Mr. Malfoy…but your appointment isn't until later this afternoon. Is it not?" The goblin responded inquiringly as he looked up from his desk.

Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly in annoyance before answering in a sinister tone, "Yes…WellI wish to _reschedule_ the appointment. There are urgent matters I must attend to at once, will there be a problem?"

"Oh of course not Mr. Malfoy! Forgive me. I'm sure we can accommodate your nephew. I was merely surprised to see you here so early sir," the goblin almost squeaked as he scurried off to a door near the far right corner of the bank. After a couple of moments a stout goblin in an expensive looking suit decorated in what appeared to be medals of war walked out of the door and over towards Lucius to greet him.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Bogrod halfheartedly exclaimed, "It's good to see you back so soon. Griphook tells me you're here early for your nephew's appointment. That'll be just fine of course…. If you will follow me, we'll begin right away."

Lucius gave a courteous nod to Bogrod and tilted his head at Bellatrix and Cyrus to follow along. The goblin had a swift pace for such a small and portly creature and lead them all the way to the back of the building and through a twenty foot iron gate until they found a spiral stairway leading them to a room made of black marble lit by at least a hundred candles. A royal red carpet with gold trimmings created an aisle-way leading to the middle of the room where a stone basin about twice the size of a pensive hovered a few feet above the ground. At the back of the room there was a massive white marble frame protruding about ten feet from the wall with a small alter on the top.

"Right this way then," Bogrod said as he motioned them to the stone basin about fifteen yards ahead of them.

Cyrus paced slowly behind his aunt and uncle and didn't dare to speak, for whatever reason the atmosphere of the room was very intimidating to the boy. It was all jet-black except for the strip of red carpet that ran through the middle of the room and the white marble frame in the very back that appeared to have a radiant glow to it. All of his anticipation that was previously burning inside of him was now replaced with a nervous anxiety that had his adrenaline surging throughout his veins. It wasn't only the anticipation of finding out whether or not he was actually an heir of Slytherin, but also the fear of discovering he was inadequate for his Aunt and Uncle – the fear of not being pure_-_blood. Lucius told him that he had discovered his mother was from an old pureblood line (that was now extinct) in Switzerland, but he had never been entirely sure since he was aware that to everyone else's knowledge Lily Potter was a muggleborn, 'a mudblood,' Cyrus thought to himself in disgust. Bellatrix and Lucius taught him all about the muggle world and he wasn't sure he could stand being linked to such filth in any way.

When they reached the basin the goblin spoke again, in a very polite manner asking for a small vial of Cyrus's blood. Lucius swiftly took out his wand at the request and tapped the inside of Cyrus's arm with his wand as he held it out to extract a thin stream of blood, which he then funneled into a vial that Bograd was holding. Just before the goblin held out the vial to pour it into the basin, he looked over to Lucius and spoke solemnly, "By my authority as bank president, Chief Bogrod, I pledge the goblin's oath that whatever information that is revealed here today will be protected by us as we would our own treasures, and that this meeting will be conducted in a manner consistent with the outlined agreement."

At that moment a red hue surrounded Bogrod indicating the validity of his oath, which quickly disappeared and prompted him to go ahead and pour the vial of Cyrus's blood into the basin. Standing next to the stone container, Cyrus could now see that it was filled with a silvery substance almost as thick as gel. The blood dripped into the liquid and slowly began to steam and bubble until it evolved into an astonishingly bright shade of red that clearly reflected his face from the surface. With a snap of Bogrod's fingers the basin then levitated over to sit on top of the alter that sat above the white marble frame.

"Now," the goblin began slowly in explanation to Cyrus, "when I tip the basin the substance will engrave a number of connected lines onto the surface of the frame with names written above them, indicating family origin. It will begin on top of the frame with your father's side of the family and will detail his lineage all the way back to his first known ancestors….as well as their ancestors. Next, the same process will be done with your mother's side of the family, tracing her first ancestors and so on…Simply put Mr. Black, your family tree will be written here on this frame before your eyes. Are there any questions?"

'There are quite a few questions I have' Cyrus thought to himself, but ones he only deemed suitable for Lucius or Bellatrix at the moment. He shook his head at the goblin after a few seconds and braced himself for what was to come, both fearful and eager for the white marble frame to reveal his family heritage.

Bogrod snapped his fingers again and the basin tilt past a forty five degree angle at once, pouring the bright red solution of Cyrus's blood into another bowl carved on to the top of the frame. The substance began to sizzle for a moment and then started to carve a thin line into the marble that streamed down the left side of frame. A line gradually started to form onto the wall and ran down about a foot until the first name appeared and read _Ignotus Perevell _in gleaming red cursive. There were no surprises here, both Lucius and Bellatrix were well aware of the Potter family line, as they were with most old pureblood lines.

The stream of blood continued down the frame and revealed Ignotus Perevell's family tree until _Alexander Potter _appeared attached by another stream of blood underlining _Antebellum Perevell_, indicating marriage. A few generations later the names _Charlus Potter _and _Dorea Black _were revealed, followed by their heir _James Potter _and his wife _Lily Evans – _both written in bright red. Immediately upon seeing Lily Evan's name written Lucius and Bellatrix both gasped and tried to regain their composure as Cyrus turned around in interest.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Cyrus asked fearfully.

"No…no nothing's wrong. Just pay attention Cyrus," Lucius quickly demanded in reply as he turned Cyrus back around towards the marble frame.

_Harrison James Potter _was now written on the wall, which had a vertical line flowing upwards above the name attached to _Sirius Black _and _Lily Evans. _It took about another ten minutes before the entire Black family tree was written on the wall before them, which Belllatrix of course knew better than anyone living. Though she was proud of her heritage, her composure reflected a hint of shame as it was written out before her. Her eyes were narrowed in disgust at a number of squibs written in green that littered her family tree (in comparison to only two on the Potter's tree) and was now beginning to grow impatient for the first name to appear in Lily Evan's bloodline. Due to the fact that only purebloods were engraved in bright red, Lucius's and Bellatrix's long held convictions regarding Cryus's mother had already been confirmed. Now it was just a matter of whether she somehow descended from Slytherin, not to mention the question if she had actually ever been aware of her of heritage.

Lucius knew that if she was indeed a descendent of Salazar Slytherin it would alter the Slytherin bloodline dramatically. At some point in history, either an heir or heiress from the Slytherin or Gaunt bloodline would have had to have produced offspring with a light blooded wizarding family for it to be possible. If Slytherin blood had not been concealed and rendered dormant in the veins of a light blooded family the world would have been aware of other parseltounges, owing to the fact that dark magical abilities weren't compatible with light blooded wizards or witches. Furthermore, dark and light blooded marriages were still taboo at present and almost unheard of if not strictly forbidden in numerous families just a century ago, which meant that any offspring produced within the family line would have likely been a bastard. Lastly, since those children produced out of marriage were not legally recognized heirs in the wizarding world unless adopted, it would prove the story of the Slytherin bloodline to be far more suspect than anyone had known. No light blooded family now or in antiquity would ever knowingly or willingly take in a bastard heir of Slytherin, which left the obvious question as to how Slytherin blood could have ever survived in the veins of a light wizarding family in the first place.

As an astonished Bogrod stood next to Lucius with a hand over his wide open mouth, the bright red solution engraved Lily's first known ancestor at the top right corner of the marble frame. It read _Herpo Foul _followed by seven generations of his sons and daughters until it reached his last direct descendent, _Serina Foul, _who was attached to her husband _Salazar Slytherin._ Bellatrix and Cryus let out an audible gasp at seeing Slytherin's name while Lucius seemed hardly surprised at all. He was well studied in the lineage of ancient bloodlines, particularly those of the founders, and had already known of Cyrus's heritage the moment the surname _Foul _was written in front of them.

As the writing continued six more generations of Slytherin's were traced onto the wall until _Meredith Slytherin _appeared below her parents, _Allison Perevell _(great grand-daughter of Cadmus Perevell) and _Sidius Slytherin_ (the last male heir in the Slytherin line). To the left was her husband _Alexander Acklin _and their son _Herald Acklin, _all in bright red but marked out with a black X over their names indicating an out of wedlock affair and bastard heir. After their names were crossed out, Meredith Slytherin's true husband, _Felix Guant, _was revealed to the right of her while Herlad's name reappeared with a blue line attaching his new name – _Xavier Acklin III -_ to his adopted father _Xavier Acklin Jr _(brother of _Alexander Acklin)._ Several generations later within the Acklin family tree the last Acklin descendent, _Alessandra Acklin, _glowed in bright red next to her husband _Levin Caspari. _Their daughter _Elena Caspari _was then joined with her husband _Vincent Edwards, _(the former wizarding prince of the royal bloodline in England, whose influence on the ministry was now greatly diminished since Voldemort's fall) and written directly above their daughter _Lillian Edwards._ However, another black X accompanied Elena's and Vincent's name along with their out of wedlock daughter, who reappeared at the bottom of the wall with the muggle surname of _Evans_.

Upon these revelations, Lucius's eyes had bulged as he drew a hand up to cover his open mouth, imitating nearly the exact same posture as Bogrod. If he hadn't seen it for himself he would have never believed it, but the inscriptions on the wall served to confirm beyond any doubt of what he had been skeptical of earlier. A Slytherin descendent did indeed produce offspring with a light-blooded family, and to Lucius's amazement (and great relief) the family descended from a _Swiss_ pureblood line, which is what he had lied to Cyrus about years ago when he told him that his mother was of Swiss pureblood lineage. At first he couldn't fathom how luck had favored him so dramatically, but then again he figured that the coincidence wasn't that farfetched after all. During the Slytherin's time the family fiercely protected the purity of their bloodline, if one of their daughters had ever had an affair with a light blooded Englishwizard they almost certainly would have been discovered, which would have undoubtedly meant death for their child. The only feasible way a light blooded bastard heir of Slytherin could have ever survived while going unnoticed was if he or she was born in a safe-haven out of the country, which Switzerland certainly qualified for as it had always been a prominent light wizarding country.

By now Lucius and Bellatrix were both pale in the face as newly formed lines began connecting Lily and James to their only son, _Harrison James Potter._ Oddly though, instead of studying Cyrus's lineage they were glaring at the name of the last known descendent in the Gaunt bloodline, _Thomas Marvolo Riddle, _who wasunderneath the names of _Merlope Gaunt_ and her muggle husband_ Thomas Riddle Sr. _Both of their eyes were constantly shifting back to _Morfin Gaunt _expecting a wife and child to appear at any second, but as nothing happened it became evident that the only Gaunt descendent to produce offspring during Morfin's generation was Merlope, whose existence was unknown to either of them. Furthermore, since they knew that their former master was indeed an heir of Slytherin – if only because he was a parselmouth - the only logical conclusion they could draw was that Thomas Marvolo Riddle _was_ Lord Voldemort, a half-blooded defilement of the Slytherin bloodline.

Bellatrix's eyes were now gleaming in horror as she reread the inscriptions on the marble frame over again, making every effort to resist the facts now coming to light. Her face contorted into an expression of a heartbroken woman, with affliction and regret lightly etched into the lines of her soft complexion. She quickly dropped to her knees and began to weep in astonishment, "A…a _half-_blood! A _STAIN _on the royal blood of Salazar! How…how could _I _…_"_ She looked to Lucius in disbelief as her voice became strained, unwilling to believe that they had so readily followed a half-blooded disgrace of Slytherin.

Lucius gave Bellatrix a pitiful look as he knelt down to help pick her up. "Come now Bella, gather yourself. A Black does not cry," he said forcefully but with as much sympathy as he could muster. "We were deceived, you did nothing to dishonor your name." The fact that Lord Voldemort was half-blooded was quite shocking for Lucius as well, but it didn't provoke anguish or rage as it had in Bellatrix. After all, he would never have hesitated in recruiting a half-blood to the Dark's cause over a pureblood if his talent had warranted the measure, which was one of the reasons he was still friends with Severus Snape. Other than muggleborns, if an individual's power merited respect he was often obliged to look past whatever 'flaws' they may have . Moreover, Lucius didn't view his role in Lord Voldemort's inner circle as a servant willing to sacrifice himself for the Dark Lord, but instead a follower willing to die for the Dark's cause. He was the kind of man that followed grand visions and ideals, not people. While he now despised ever being under the dominion of a half-blood, the fact that Lord Voldemort pursued the same aspirations as himself – pureblood supremacy, a universally accepted use of dark magic, ridding the magical world of all muggle threats, rights for various dark creatures, etc. – mitigated his anger far more than it had Bellatrix's.

As Lucius looked over at Cyrus after helping Bella back to her feet, he noticed a frightened expression on the boy's face. Apparently he didn't know who his aunt had referred to and feared it was him, entirely unaware of what the different colors on the marble frame indicated. Lucius, always keen on Cyrus's thoughts – who Bella and himself now practically considered a son after helping Narcissa raise him for the better part of seven years – promptly walked over to him to put an arm around the boy's shoulder and quell his worries.

"It's not you Cyrus. You have nothing to be ashamed of…Aunt Bella was merely speaking of someone we knew a long time ago. Your blood is just as pure as mine," Lucius said with a comforting smile. It was a partial lie, but the fact that Cyrus had light-blooded parents was practically irrelevant now. Cyrus could trace his dark-blooded heritage back further than either Lucius or Bellatrix with Herpo Foul as his first known ancestor, who just happened to be the first recorded parselmouth in the wizarding world. Also, while James Potter was a light-blooded wizard he also had recessive dark traits due to his mother, Dorea Black (whose marriage Lucius knew to be quite a story in its own right). Therefore, when Sirius Black made the reckless decision to perform the blood adoption ritual, he had unknowingly stimulateddormant traits from Lilly's (that of the Slytherin and Edwards family) and his own bloodline, consequently rendering Cyrus a dark-blooded wizard. He could now legitimately claim heritage from generations of the Slytherin, Perevell, Edwards, and Black family line, four of the most prominent dark blood-lines in wizarding history. The fact that the last pure and dark-blooded heir of Salazar Slytherin descended directly from light-blooded parents was insignificant, partly because he was the onlyheir left.

After a few seconds Lucius gently patted Cyrus on the back as a proud father would and turned to the astounded goblin with a stern countenance and ordered sharply, "Bogrod! I need a word with my godson. I will see you in your office momentarily, leave us."

Bogrod complied with the head Malfoy's demand with a slight nod and an agitated expression before snapping his fingers and vanishing. Lucius took little notice of the goblin's departure as he put his hand over Cyrus's shoulder and walked over towards Bellatrix, who was now standing near the wall with her hands covering an obviously tearful face. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Lucius spoke delicately, "Bella… this should be a proud moment for you and your family dear, now please…I must make the Daily Prophetbefore tomorrow's edition and square away arrangements with Bogrod …not to mention a visit with Severus. You and Cissy will need to prepare Cyrus and Draco for tomorrow night. They should appear resplendent, understand?"

Bella lifted her head from her hands and gave Lucius a nod while she sniffled back her tears and took Cyrus's other hand with a motherly smile. "Of course," she replied, wiping away her last tear and squeezing Cyrus's hand gently, "that shouldn't be too hard."

"Excellent then… Cyrus, I know you have many questions. I promise we'll have a nice long chat about it later, in the meantime I'm sure Aunt Bella will be able to answer most of them for you," Lucius stated as he took a quick peak at his stopwatch. "Now… there's only a few hours before the prophet closes, I'll see both of you at the manor tomorrow evening after work."

With that, Cyrus nodded in obedience and allowed his aunt and uncle to guide him towards the stairway near the exit. He knew he would probably have an endless number of questions to ask both of them regarding his ancestry later, but his relief that his lineage had pleased them was enough to quell his curiosity for the time being. Their approval was all that Cyrus had ever hoped for, and now that he 'officially' had it he felt as if a long standing weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

**BREAK**

The next morning Cyrus and Bellatrix arrived at the Malfoy manor at nine o'clock sharp with four house elves alongside them meant to help prepare for the evening's party. Upon entering, Bellatrix continued towards the main parlor to find Narcissa as Cyrus immediately made his way to Draco's room, which was directly across from his own on the third floor. He was eager to show him his new familiar and hoped to Merlin his brother was still asleep. Cyrus was never much of a prankster, but when it came to teasing Draco he'd do just about anything for a good laugh.

As he reached the third floor and crept into Draco's room, he found him wrapped in his covers on his bed next to the remaining embers still burning in the fire place from the night before. While nearing the bed Sevins slid to the stone floor and slithered over towards the sleeping boy until he reached his feet curled at the end of the four poster bed. Cyrus's familiar slowly moved up Draco's body to find his head resting on two satin pillows with green and silver embroidery stitched around the edges. Cyrus gave a sly nod of his head as he approached his brother and his familiar immediately extended his hood and let out a loud raspy hiss accompanied with a sight of his gleaming fangs.

Draco instantly awoke, jerking his head upwards to face the hissing cobra as his eyes widened in fear. At once he rolled off his bed with a frightened yelp and onto the stone floor with a crash of his nightstand as he quickly crawled over towards the fire place for an iron poker. Cyrus chuckled in amusement at the sight of a panicking Draco and promptly levitated his familiar back onto his shoulders before his brother could attack him.

"Now Draco…" Cryus reprimanded sarcastically and as innocently as possible, "where are your manners? My familiar was merely trying to introduce himself."

At this, Draco looked up at Cyrus in complete dismay while glaring darts at him, not even aware that he had been in the bedroom. "F-…Familiar! What are you talking about? That's a _cobra_!" Draco exclaimed as he pointed at the snake, slowly realizing its docile nature while wrapped around Cryus's shoulder's. "How?…I…I don't understand."

Cyrus gave his brother an amusing grin and said casually, "Like I said… he's my familiar. I got him yesterday when we went shopping for my wand. His name is Tyrannicus Sevincore, but you can just call him Sevins."

Draco looked dumbfounded as he dropped the poker and got to his feet. "Tyrannicus Sevincore?" he asked mockingly. "Where in the bloody hell did you come up with _that_ name?"

"I didn't," Cyrus responded with a slight smirk. "The name was given to him at birth."

Draco now looked at his brother as if he were crazy but before he could question him further Cyrus cut in with an air of childish pride and said tersely, "I'm a parselmouth Draco…It means that I can speak with snakes. I only found out just yester-"

"I _know_ what it means!" Draco interrupted hotly, still grumpy from being awoken by Cyrus's new familiar. "But how? You're a _Black! _Only heirs of Slytherin can…"

"Can speak with serpents… I know." Cryus finished his brother's sentence with a tone of indifference. " I'm a Black through blood adoption of course… but you know who my real parent's were Draco."

Draco let down a gulp and nodded slowly. They rarely spoke of Cyrus's true lineage and hadn't spoke of it in nearly a year, always preferring to live in a world in which the Potter's didn't exist. He wasn't ashamed of his parents, but he embraced his dark-blooded ancestry just like he and any other dark-blooded heir was raised to do. Being a rather tender subject, Draco decided not to question his brother and waited for him to speak as he sat down in a decorative chair near the fire place.

Cyrus paced back and forth for a moment to collect his thoughts and then turned to his brother and recounted everything that happened the day before. Not to Cyrus's surprise, Draco was stunned to find that his mother was an heiress of Slytherin. Even more amazing was the story of his wand, which Draco was admiring at a distance as Cyrus ran his fingers of over the rod's smooth Ebony wood. He was awestruck by the fact that his brother had a wand made by Salazar himself, and the fact that he was given something that would ordinarily cost a fortune for absolutely free was nearly unbelievable. Draco was rarely ever jealous of his brother and this case was no different, if anything it inflated his own sense of pride by being considered his brother. While Draco hadn't the faintest clue as to what plans were actually in store for Cyrus, he wasn't blind either. As a Malfoy he was taught that in order to lead in life he must first follow the right people, just as his old man had. He was an intelligent boy and could deduce just by the way others treated his brother that he was destined to be someone of prominence someday, which he viewed as an advantage instead of a matter of jealousy.

Just as Draco was about to ask him what he thought of Snape, they heard a quiet pop followed by one of the Malfoy's numerous house elves informing them that Narcissa required their presence downstairs immediately. Knowing it wasn't wise to keep her waiting they dashed downstairs to find her in the ballroom with Bellatrix ordering various elves around the manor in preparation for the party.

As Narcissa turned around and found her two boys she gave a genuine smile of motherly affection. Draco could almost see tears in her eyes as she gave Cyrus a hug. "Oh Cyrus! I'm so proud of you dear… We always knew you were a special boy," she spoke enthusiastically in her usual soft voice accompanied by a light Welsh accent. This type of praise was always a melody to his ears when spoken by her. Even though Bellatrix was indeed a mother figure of sorts for Cyrus (a minor headache for Lucius as he didn't exactly consider her to be the best of parents) Narcissa was always the first he looked to as a parent in his life.

Noticing a newspaper in her hand Cyrus squinted to see the headline read, "**GRINGOTTS CONFRIMS EXISTENCE OF SLYTHERIN HEIR." **Before he could get a word of surprise out Narcissa put her hand on his shoulders and calmly stated, "Cyrus… we have something we'd like to discuss with you."

"I know…" Cyrus replied hesitantly, half expecting what was to come next.

Narcissa looked at her young ward for a moment, contemplating on how to continue. When Lucius had told her of the events from the day before and his plans with the Daily Prophet she had been speechless, but only until it was explained to her further. Lucius's reasoning behind his actions was actually quite simple. First, the identity of the Slytherin heir was still protected by the goblin's oath, therefore, the public could only speculate on the matter until the individual wished otherwise. Secondly, the only way that this could endanger Cyrus or the dark's cause would be if Dumbledore knew of Lilly Evan's true identity, which Lucius had found out to be impossible. While there was no record of a Lilly Evan's blood test at Gringotts, arguably the most compelling evidence were the simple mannerisms observed by both Severus and himself while they were classmates with her at Hogwarts.

For starters, Lilly Evans was placed in Gryffindor and almost exclusively associated herself with other muggleborns - and a couple of half-bloods such as Severus Snape - where she genuinely felt most comfortable. That was of course up until she fell in love with James Potter and was introduced to his crowd of friends during their last year, of which Lucius was certain that Dumbeldore's influence had played at least a small role in. During their days in school the old pureblood laws and traditions had just started to unfold, and the old headmaster was the individual who was most responsible for the decline. He had just defeated one of the most destructive dark lords in centuries (Grindenwald) and was coming into his own as the most prominent individual in the wizarding world, whose political influence surpassed that of the Minister of Magic. There were a number of political issues that needed to be resolved at the time in order to render Grindenwald's defeat meaningful to wizarding society going forward, and marriage was at the forefront of those issues. If the marriage dynamics in wizarding Europe had continued as they were, with the accepted dogma as a marriage between two purebloods or two muggleborns (where half-bloods were few and far between) then class structure in wizarding society would remain largely unaltered. This was one of many political issues that would take decades to change, as the strong convictions of the past that were deeply imbedded in society could only be unraveled by indoctrinating new generations of witches and wizards with new ideals over time. This is exactly why Dumbledore had chosen to become Headmaster of Hogwarts rather than Minister of Magic. The greatest power came with the future of wizarding England, there was no better position than one in which he would have direct influence over the future generations of the most prominent wizards and witches in England.

Hogwarts was indeed a tradition among the most wealthy and powerful families in wizarding society, and as headmaster and unofficial 'leader of the light,' Dumbledore would be able to usurp the ministry's authority to shape and mold the leaders of tomorrow as he saw fit.

While Dumbledore had many other political issues to assess as headmaster, there was no matter of greater importance than resolving the long standing prejudice that prevented the rigid class structures from dissolving. One great example of what he aspired for was reflected in James Potter and Lilly Evans. James was the talented pureblood prince of Hogwarts that looked up to Dumbledore like a father, while the other was a mysterious and gorgeous muggleborn girl that nobody seemed to quite understand. It wasn't rare for muggleborns to be talented, but Lilly's own natural aptitude for magic had caught nearly everyone's attention. If anyone in school could have challenged James to a duel during their time in school, who was considered to be Dumbledore's protégé' by many up until his premature death, it would have been her. If one also took into account that she was an animagus (extraordinarily rare for a muggleborn) while her sister had absolutely no magical abilities whatsoever, it would have to put doubt into the objective mind in regards to Lilly Evans' true origins. Such a powerful witch with not one drop of magical blood in her ancestry was very rare indeed. Still, neither Lilly or Dumbledore ever put a second thought towards her bloodline, their beliefs apparently leading them to believe her as an ordinary muggleborn witch others could look up to. Not only was this evidenced by the fact that there was no record of a blood test ever having been conducted on Lilly Evans, but also by Lucius's schoolboy memories. He had been up to the headmaster's office with Lilly a countless number of times due to his cutting remarks and insults during class, and every time Dumbledore would soothingly tell the teary eyed girl how proud she should be as a muggleborn. Even in their last year when Snape had called her a mudblood and effectively ended their friendship, she had clearly been hurt by the remark. Lastly, if the ever encouraging Dumbledore had ever known of Lilly's true bloodline he likely would have been quite weary of her marriage to James Potter, knowing the possibility that their offspring could inherit traits from a number of dark blooded families, including the Slytherin bloodline. Nevertheless, Dumbledore was quite encouraging of their marriage and had probably hoped the union to be the first of a long line of mix-blooded marriages. To Lucius, it was rather obvious - if not painfully so - that not only had Dumbledore not been aware of her true heritage, but neither had Lilly herself. Because of this, Lucius hoped Cyrus's discovery would be an opportunity to add momentum to the dark's cause and build a foundation of hope, which had been lacking ever since Lord Voldemort's demise.

As Narcissa continued to stare in Cyrus's eyes she finally chose the right words and unparsed her lips. "Well dear… as you know… Salazar Slytherin is one of your ancestors, which means a great deal to proper wizarding society," she spoke warmly but also as a matter of fact. "This is not something we expect you to fully appreciate until you are a bit older Cyrus, but I just want you to be clear…No matter what you may see or hear tonight or at any point forward, we'll always consider you our own child," she added while she shushed Draco and continued with a more stern countenance. "Your name is Cyrus Rosier Black… and for now that is all the world needs to know of you. For other than the people you meet here tonight, you will be known and introduced as you always have – as the sole heir to the noble house of Black. It would be dangerous for you to reveal anything more of yourself right now. Do you understand?"

Cyrus stole a glance at Bellatrix for a moment, who had given him a similar speech the night before, and then returned his eyes to Narcissa to answer sincerely, "Of course Aunt Cissy, I understand….But nothing has changed really, I've always had blood relatives that I can't reveal…. So that shouldn't be too hard. Who am I meeting tonight anyway?"

Narcissa's expression remained unchanged other than her eyes, which seemed to glisten with concern at hearing Cyrus. She wanted to tell him of the difficulties he may encounter later down the road, if only to prepare him for what might be ahead as a mother would. Still, she restrained herself and merely smiled.

"There won't be many you haven't met before dear," she dismissed sweetly. "As long as you understand dear, you two can run along. Your father will be here later this afternoon to help prepare you for the party and I know he'll want to speak with you as well. Bella and I will call you when he's back."

At that Cyrus and Draco replied with a 'yes mam,' and both ran off outside towards the quidditch pitch to play, hoping their father wouldn't return too soon.


	7. Chapter 7

Around 6 a.m the next morning at Malfoy manor Cyrus was found on the stone floor of his bedroom glaring into a roaring fire with his familiar resting comfortably at his side, contemplating the events that had occurred the night before. Until now he hardly had any grasp of what it meant to be Slytherin's heir, or the implications it carried. At Gringotts, just the relief of being pureblood and pleasing his parents had briefly outweighed his interest in his ancestry. Now, however, the expectations and lofty hopes that were attached to his newfound title were coming to light. While he knew that he had been treated as if he were royalty for much of his childhood, where blatant adulation was fairly common, never in his life had he experienced what transpired last night

The 'celebration' – as his Uncle Lucius had referred to it as – began at 7 pm and lasted throughout the night. Instead of joy and cheerful conversation as Cyrus and Draco had anticipated though, it was a rather somber occasion accompanied with what seemed to be a very strict protocol. Each member of the party arrived at various times throughout the evening and were met within the manor gates before being lead inside, where Bellatrix indentified their invitations and had them swear to a magical oath of secrecy before seeing the new Slytherin heir (as detailed in their letters). From there they were lead to the ballroom, which was reorganized by the house elves to resemble a ceremonial type setting with a plush emerald green carpet lining the middle of the room and a decorative type of throne at the very end, where Cyrus sat rather awkwardly.

As instructed by Bellatrix, the members filtered into the room quietly after finishing their oath and lined each side of the room to wait their turn to greet the mysterious boy. Each invitee only had but a minute with him, which consisted of a short introduction of themselves, some sort of praise for the venerable Slytherin bloodline, and usually a gift as well. Although Lucius handled most of the formalities while Cyrus was merely required to thank them for their presence, he couldn't help but feel the immense pressure that had weighed down on him. It was quite obvious that instead of the 'celebration' that his Uncle Lucius spoke of, the gathering turned out to be more of a political ceremony. Cyrus knew what the Slytherin name had meant to the dark's cause in the past due to his readings, however, he hadn't any idea that the bloodline would still resonate among dark wizarding society to the extent that it seemed. Not only did most dark wizarding family in England attend, but there were also several royal magistrates and representatives from various countries across Europe. Moreover, every member had only one day's notice, which was perhaps the most striking aspect of their prompt arrival.

Just as Cyrus began stroking Sevins in an attempt to calm himself from the mounting pressures of meeting the lofty hopes and expectations of dark wizarding society, his door creaked open to reveal one of the many house elves of Malfoy manor.

"Young Master Black," he squeaked hesitantly as he peered at the child sitting aside his fireplace. "Master Malfoy requests your presence in the dueling chambers. Your lessons start in one half hour, sir."

Cyrus looked back to nod in appreciation as the house elf bowed and closed the bedroom door. Slowly he turned to his familiar as the door shut with a dreaded look in his eye, as if to say he wasn't yet ready to start his magical training, a day he that had looked forward to for most of his life. Sevins, who had been up all night trying to comfort his master, slithered up his arm to hiss reassuringly, "_You mussst not burden yoursself with thessse matterss young ssserpent. You have many yearsss ahead of you. Focusss on what isss in front of you, and your greater dessstiny will unfold in time."_

Turning to his familiar again, Cyrus responded to his thoughtful words with a faint smile. He knew Sevins was right in that he had years before anything at all was expected of him, and that all he could do was take his life one day at a time. Still, he feared that what might eventually be expected of him to be an impossible challenge. Feeling only slightly comforted by what his familiar said, he took a deep breath and rose from where he was sitting to prepare for his first magical lesson of his life.

_**BREAK**_

Arriving downstairs, Cyrus found his brother Draco and his uncle Lucius waiting for him at a small table off to the side of the room. The dueling chambers consisted of a strip of red carpet about fifteen feet wide and fifty feet long that ran through the middle of the room, complimented by an interior of white coral stone. On each side of the dueling strip were a wide case of stairs that elevated about six or seven feet, leading to a sitting room and library hidden behind several granite columns that lined the top of the stairs. Though the library on the far side was largely unused, Cyrus had almost always wondered what sort of texts the shelves might hold, as it had always been off limits to both Draco and him.

As Cyrus entered the room Lucius rose casually along with Draco to greet him. Lucius had decided it best to move on from last night as if it hadn't happened, knowing the pressure that it had put on the boy. He didn't regret holding the ceremony of course, as it had indeed rejuvenated the dark's hopes of someday achieving their long held dreams, but he still couldn't help but feeling sorry for the boy. It was clear to him that Cyrus understood what his role in wizarding society was as well as any nine year old could hope to, yet he knew this would greatly inhibit him from having any kind of normal childhood at home or in school. Regardless though, Lucius ultimately believed that it was good for the child to learn how to handle such pressures at a young age if he were ever to meet the expectations dark wizarding society had for him.

"Aw… there you are Cyrus! I hope you're well rested, we have another big day ahead of us," Lucius exclaimed before continuing in a more formal tone. "As I was just telling Draco, I expect each of you to be well rehearsed in elementary magical theory by now. It has been part of your curriculum for the past two years, and while it will certainly be covered you should not think that I will baby either of you here today. Learning to build and hone your magic is incredibly taxing on both your mind and body, so you must expect to be pushed to your limit. I will not tolerate weakness, both of you are descended from highly regarded pureblood lines and you will be trained as such. Do you understand?"

Cyrus gave a slight nod of the head with a barely audible 'yes sir' before following him down to the dueling strip with Draco. He didn't believe there would be any dueling yet, but he also wouldn't be surprised by his uncle if they did either. Just as he was about to ask, Lucius spoke again up as if he had read his mind.

"Now…neither of you should anticipate dueling lessons until you have learned to harness your core's magic appropriately, which won't be for quite some time. Today we'll start off with some rudimentary charms and transfiguration. Hopefully, in a few month's time you will have mastered some of the basics and be able to begin the Dark Arts. I expect both of you to be _at least,_" Lucius paused during his emphasis to eye Cyrus carefully, "one to two years ahead of your classmates."

Seeing the two boys nod in obedience, Lucius directed them to follow him towards the dueling strip while he fit a pair of frilly red dueling gloves on his hands. He had looked forward to this day for years now and not only decided to reduce his time spent at the ministry for the time being, but also had an intricately planned curriculum for the boys over the next couple of years. While Draco would experience a rather **common** **form **of prep school common in pureblood households, he knew Cyrus would require far more attention. Not necessarily because he was the heir of a celebrated bloodline in their society, but because his style of learning would be far different from most other wizards. It wasn't the remarkable explosions of accidental magic that made him aware of this, but instead it was the small feats of wandless magic that had caught Lucius's attention.

Unlike other rare talents such as legilemency or a sears ability to see into the future, wandless magic was the sure sign of a magical savant (a witch or wizard that could summon their magic without the use of a wand, sometimes referred to as a mage). Performing magic without the use of a wand indicated a certain level of affinity with one's own magic and the world around them, and in extremely rare cases an affinity so deep that sparked the developments of elemental capabilities over time. Though Lucius certainly didn't expect Cyrus to form elemental abilities, which not even Voldemort possessed; he did expect him to learn as savant would. Instead of learning wand movements and incantations that facilitated ordinary wizards in concentrating their magic through a wand, Cyrus would be taught the art of focus and mediation while learning to call on his magic at will. Learning to summon and concentrate one's magic with a wand was hardly necessary, but great focus, power, and mental discipline were required without one. And though there were a number of more powerful spells that no one could cast without a wand, the goal for Cyrus would be to eventually learn how to do so without the wand movements or incantations - one of the many great advantages wizards such as Dumbledore and Voldemort had in combat.

Just as Lucius was beginning to wonder where Cyrus's tutor was he appeared at the entrance wearing a long black fur coat with dragon hide boots layered in snow. The man had wavy black and grey peppered hair as well as a thick goatee that pronounced the stern countenance his face wore. As he approached them his confidence appeared as if all the golden chains of rubies and emeralds that decorated his coat were hardly needed to signify his royal status. Most of wizarding Europe knew him as Nestor Kozlov, an agent in the royal court of wizarding Russia and the former right hand man of Gillert Grindenwald, who also happened to be a good friend of Lucius's since their service under Voldermort.

"Nestor! It's good to see you again my old friend," Lucius exclaimed as he went forward to embrace the man with a firm roman handshake. "We were just waiting for you. I haven't yet had the opportunity to tell Cyrus much about you since last night… but I believe you two will get along just fine. Cyrus," he directed at the boy politely. "This is Nestor Kozlov. He's a good friend of mine and in your particular case… better suited to teach you than I am," he finished with a graceful effort.

The man nodded in appreciation and then began to eye the boy head to toe. "So this is boy?" he asked himself with a thick accent. "Very vell…ve shall see if he is vorthy of your high praise Lucius…do not expect me to go yeesy on him."

"I expect you to push him to his limits," Lucius replied quickly, and to Kozlov's surprise in a rather demanding tone. "Draco and I will go to the study and leave you two here in case you might need the space… If you need anything, one of the house elves will be happy to accommodate you. Just snap."

Before Cyrus could think to utter a word in response to any of this, Lucius had turned to lead Draco towards the study and out the door. Draco had looked back at his puzzled brother a number of times but knew to never question his father. Whatever he had done in the past, no matter how bemusing, he knew it had always been done for a reason.

As the door shut all Cyrus could do was look up at the strange man in front of him and wait for his instructions. Yet, the man just stood there and continued to stare at him for some time. It seemed to take a lifetime as the man's dark eyes scanned over again and again, as if he were looking for something he wasn't able to detect before. Finally though, the man stopped his examination and spoke up.

"I vill say…" Kozlov began harshly. "It vould be foolish for me to try and teach you vandless magic, kreat Krindenwald could barely levitate book at your age. Nevertheless…. I am obligated to follow your father's instructions. Ve vill begin when you unbuckle your holster and hand over your vand."

As Cyrus unbuckled his holster and reached out to give him his wand Kozlov immediately shot him a disappointing glare. "Incorrect," he stated coldly. "I can see that Lucius has not taught you anything… You _never _kive your wand away to somebody you do not trust vith your life. Understand? Your father knows me…. Yah. But do you? I could kill you now and there would be nothing you could do to prevent me."

Cyrus, shocked by his instructor's response, slowly retracted his wand as he began to wonder if the man was either insane or if he just took himself a bit too seriously. After a few moment though, he also had a feeling that this is what he should expect during his magical training, as there was probably good reason for being separated from Draco. After all, he knew his father wouldn't let a mad man anywhere near him, much less tutor him in his first magical lesson.

"Lesson number one, _never_ kive your wand away," Kozlov repeated as he flicked his wand to give Cyrus a chair to sit in behind him. "Now…sit."

Slowly, Cyrus sat down in the wooden chair behind him and waited for his next direction, wondering what the man in front of him was going to ask him to do next. Once seated though, the man only closed his eyes and raised his right hand toward the library with his palm open. Nearly a full minute later, Cyrus noticed a bead of sweat dripping from the man's forehead and an expression of extreme concentration come over his face. For the moment he had no clue what the man was attempting to do, but then in the corner of his eye he immediately caught sight of a book slowly floating towards them. Kozlov, who grabbed the book in a swift motion, merely smiled affectionately as read the title.

"That... is yust about the extent of my vandless abilities," Kozlov stated tirelessly as he wiped his brow. "Yet, I have trained my vole life and veryfew vizards are capable of even _that_. So… I do not vant you to be disappointed if you do not succeed. It requires kreat concentration, discipline, and power… which can only be mastered with time. So I varn you, do not expect to perform any spells vithout vand for many years… if ever."

Not sure how to respond, Cyrus simply gave his instructor a courteous nod to continue. He wasn't sure whether to tell his instructor that he was already capable of wandlessly attracting and repelling small objects, but he definitely knew he didn't want to appear boastful and thus decided to let his lesson play out. And while it was certainly odd that his father hadn't informed his teacher of his abilities beforehand, he found that it really wasn't much of a surprise.

"Be that as it may…ve must test your abilities," his instructor continued in a collected manner as he held up the book. "I vould like you to examine the book I have in my hands. Examine carefully, not only what it looks like, but how it might feel in your possession. You must not concentrate too much on physical nature of item, yust your desire to control it."

Knowing this already from his experience with wandlessly summoning and banishing objects, Cyrus only gave a slight nod and a small inward smile. Lifting his hand towards the book, he saw his teacher's lips allow themselves a condescending smirk and decided not to hold anything back. Within the blink of an eye though, Kozlov's face had instantly changed from an expression of amusement at the boy's efforts to one of total disbelief. There in front of him, was Cyrus sitting patiently for his next instructions with the book in hand, staring innocently as if nothing had happened.

Kozlov, whose mouth was now hanging wide open, tried to recover but only could manage a stutter.

"Not….Not bossible…You…How did you-"

"_Isss everything okay young masster?_" Sevin's voice cut in as he slithered into the room and over towards Cyrus and his astonished tutor.

"_Everything isss fine Sssevinsss, thankssss. I don't think Uncle Luciusss told my tutor very much about me though," _Cyrus hissed at his familiar, glancing over at Nestor to see if Lucius had also failed to mention his parseltounge abilities. "_It doesssn't ssseem like he expectsss very much."_

Kozlov, who now appeared as white as the snow melting off his boots, was intently gazing at Cyrus with a pair of astonished grey eyes; taking in every detail he could manage to remember. Slowly, he retrieved his wand and banished the chair he had summoned with a shaking hand and began to walk out of the room at a quickened pace.

"I've seen enough! I must speak vith your uncle at once!… Ve vill meet again soon I hope, Cyrus…" Nestor managed as he walked out of the dueling chambers, leaving Cyrus and his familiar looking quite puzzled as he shut the doors.

**BREAK**

"Vie did you not tell me Lucius?" Harry heard Kozlov ask curiously behind Lucius's office dore. When his tutor had abruptly left the room, he couldn't resist following the man upstairs to hear what he had to say to his uncle.

"I told you he was the heir to Salazar Slytherin," Lucius spoke calmly. "Either you chose not to believe me… or perhaps your esteem for your former Lord Grindenwald has blinded you from the greatest dark bloodline in history, which just so happens to hail from England.

Cyrus could hear a grunt from the other side of the mahogany door, indicating Kozlov's ignorant reply.

"No matter…" Lucius continued. "He will be off to Hogwarts in a short time Nestor. He needs proper training and it would be a great advantage to him if –"

"Hogvarts?" Harry heard Kozlov shout in surprise.

"Well of course…" Lucius replied with a casual air of finality as if he had expected the outburst. "It's where both Narcissa and I went as well as his Aunt Bellatrix. Naturally…he will follow in his family's footsteps and ascend into his heritage as a Slytherin… like we raised him to be."

"But this is madness Lucius! Dumblydore –"

"The boy's legal godfather _works_ at the school," Lucius cut in hastily. "Furthermore, I am governor of the school board. Certainly no harm will befall him while I hold that seat, and if I fear the old man is getting to close him… I'll attempt to sack him or remove Cyrus from the school," he finished with a casual air of finality.

"You vill haveto remove him eventually!" Kozlov spoke rashly. "Dumblydore will not be able to keep from trying. He is not safe there! He _must_ attend Durm-"

"He _will _attend Hogwarts," Lucius said firmly, keeping his patience. "I did not invite you here for your advice on where he should attend school, Nestor. If there comes a time where he must attend Durmstrang, then so be it. For now… he must be prepared. Can I trust that you will train him properly or not?"

There were several moments of silence where Cyrus guessed that his tutor was having trouble restraining himself in disagreement, but eventually heard a hardly audible grunt that he interpreted as a 'yes' - followed by swift footsteps that neared the door he was behind. Afraid of being caught, he quickly hurried off down the corridor and back down stairs, not feeling any better about the mounting pressures that had become quite evident over the past twenty-four hours…

END OF PART ONE, HOGWARTS UP NEXT


	8. Chapter 8

Part Two

Chapter Eight: The Hogwarts Express

**August 1st, 1988**

A few years later Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, and Cyrus were found walking towards the Hogwarts Express at King's station, platform 9 ¾. The boys had received their letters a month earlier, and as Lucius expected, Cyrus's Hogwarts letter was appropriately made out to Cyrus Malfoy Rosier Black, owing to the fact that it was his legal name according to both the ministry and Gringott's archives now. They had inserted the Malfoy surname at just about the same time Cyrus started to refer to Aunt Cissy and Uncle Lucius as mom and dad. Just as they neared the train, Lucius knelt down to speak to his children before letting them depart.

"Draco, Cyrus…you know what I expect of both of you. You both descend from the most noble and ancient bloodlines in England, and you are both Malfoy's. You have no superiors, remember that," Lucius spoke in a fatherly tone as he rested his hands on their shoulders. "I expect excellence."

"Yes sir," they stated respectfully in unison.

"Cyrus, we've already discussed this once… I have convinced the board of governors to allow you to bring your familiar to school. Do _not,_ under any circumstances, speak with him in public. It will bring much unwanted attention, understand?"

"Yes sir," Cyrus replied obediently, clearly impatient to get on the train.

Lucius was wary of letting him bring Sevins to school along with him at first, but ultimately thought it was for the best. By the time that everyone had witnessed the child's abilities at year's end, the fact that he was a parselmouth or possibly the heir of Slytherin would be gravy. The boy was a born prodigy, and this would be evident without the revelation of any titles or rare abilities. In the end, Dumbledore would attempt to sway him to the light's cause with or without knowledge of his ancestry, just as he did with James Potter. Though to Lucius, that was the least of his concerns. He knew that both his children were far too clever and passionate in the convictions they were raised on to be brainwashed and manipulated by Dumbledore, a man who Cyrus already despised. It was when Dumbledore failed in his mission that worried him most. How big of a threat would the old man perceive Cyrus to be in the future, and how would he react?

The elder Malfoy had of course thought about these matters years before deciding to send them off to Hogwarts. He knew there would be a juncture during their time there where he might have to decide whether it was best to keep them there or transfer them to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, out of concern for their safety. However, he believed the boy's growing up in Slytherin, amongst their potential companions and perhaps future followers, would invaluable to them if only for a little while. Though he doubted they would ever have to leave Hogwarts, he had already contacted the headmaster's at both the aforementioned schools. In the meantime, he was quite confident that both their godfather and Cyrus's familiar – whose power Lucius had concealed from the board of governors - would keep them safe until he discovered that action had to be taken. Furthermore, he gave each of them a portkey from Lord Voldemort's manor, which Lucius still used on rare occasions as no one had yet discovered its' location (and it was highly unlikely that anyone ever would). If they were ever in any immediate danger they could simply be transported to Riddle manor in an instant, from where they would simply floo back home to Malfoy manor.

Looking into his boy's eyes with pride, Lucius let go of his fears and stood up after ruffling their hair in a fatherly manner. "Alright then," he said stated confidently, "give your mother a kiss and get on the train. You know who to stay away from."

After letting Narcissa kiss them goodbye and rearrange their hair that Lucius had just made a mess of, Cyrus levitated their trunks and they both boarded the train with Sevins hidden out of sight – both wearing a huge grin across their face.

"_Finally…_we'reon our way to Hogwarts!" Draco exclaimed excitedly as they tried to find a compartment on the train. "Let's find Crabbe and Goyle, I bet they're already here."

"Crabbe and Goyle? Really…" Cyrus rolled his eyes. "I could have a more intellectual conversation with a troll."

Draco laughed, "Probably…but brute strength is intimidation, so they have their uses. They're probably sitting with Theordore and Blaise, anyway. Come on."

In too cheerful of a mood to argue, Cyrus followed Draco down the hall until they found Crabbe and Goyle sitting with Theodore, Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne. Draco and Cyrus had rarely seen their friends before now; only mingling with them at family functions and occasionally on the weekends. Still, this was the only crowd they knew and did indeed consider them friends. As they walked into the compartment they were both greeted courteously, none of them one bit surprised that Cyrus was levitating their trunks.

Theodore, who was well schooled in pureblood politics and by far the most polite of their friends, rose to greet them immediately. "Cyrus! Draco! It's a pleasure seeing you two again. We were hoping you'd find us."

Exchanging their formal niceties with the boy, they all sat down and began to quietly chatter away about their upcoming school year as the train began to move. Cyrus was relieved that he was no longer under the constant attention and adulation of adults, and instead around his friends with little pressure weighing him down. Much of the talk centered around the Hogwarts castle, which Cyrus was able to elaborate on since he had actually seen it a few years back, and what it would be like to be in Slytherin – now the smallest house in the school by far. Instead of being fearful about potentially joining the house that would likely be slandered and shunned at every possible opportunity, they all seemed to be motivated and more ambitious than ever. Then again, Cyrus supposed that was exactly why their families came from Slytherin. A great Slytherin never met an obstacle seemingly too great to overcome in the pursuits of their ambitions or a situation that might outstrip their cunning.

Just as they started to discuss Severus Snape, their future head of house, the compartment door slid open to reveal a redheaded boy with what appeared to be hand-me-down robes along with another awkward looking boy that had dark hair and hazel eyes. Cyrus and Draco immediately recognized them as Neville Longbottom and one of the Weasley's offspring. Lucius had told both of them all about Longbottom already, someone who Dumbledore seemed have a keen interest in, and according to Severus raised by squibs in the muggle world. The Weasley family of course had been known to both of them for some time now due to their father's quarrels with Arthur Weasley at the ministry, which had already caused a couple of verbal confrontations with Draco and Ron in Diagon Alley.

Ron looked as though he had something important to say until he saw the faces of those sitting in the compartment he just opened. He paused for a moment and put on an expression that would make someone think he was now staring at a pair of giant slugs. Before he could get a word out though, Draco cut in.

"Weasel…" he said in an exasperated tone, "At least wait until we get _off _the train before you start checking our seat cushions for loose knuts and sickles. It would be a little rude to begin your search now, don't you think?"

"Sod off, _Malfoy_!" Ron snarled, his face turning a dark shade of red. "Have any of you slimy gits seen a toad around here or not? Neville lost his."

"Neville Longbottom?" Draco asked rhetorically, ignoring Ron completely as he stood up to introduce himself to the boy. "Malfoy… Draco Malfoy," he said pompously while sticking out his hand. In seeing that the Longbottom heir wasn't about to reciprocate, he continued on. "You don't want to get yourself mixed up in the wrong crowd, Longbottom. You'll soon see that some wizarding families are better than others. Why don't you join us in our compartment?"

"I-I think I can tell the wrong s-sort for myself, thank you," the Longbottom child responded in a barely audible stammer.

"I'm sorry…what did you say?" Draco responded with a slight amount of venom in his tone, though he was almost positive as to what the boy had said.

"He said…" Ron started furiously. "He can tell the _wrong_ sort for himself!"

Before Draco could get another word out, the compartment door slammed shut and the two boys kept walking down the narrow train corridor. Huffing to himself in frustration, Draco sat back down and began muttering something about impudent blood-traitors to himself while Cyrus rolled his eyes again and sighed.

"Real smooth Draco," Cyrus said sarcastically.

"What?" Draco asked innocently. "Father says he could become a useful ally to us in the future. You know that."

Cyrus chuckled to himself lightly. "You need to work on the art of subtle diplomacy my friend. That approach was doomed to fail from the start."

"Well I'd like to see _you _try then!" Draco said in an aggravated manner.

"You will," Cyrus responded confidently. "You will…. Just be patient."

Not more than five minutes later, just after Cyrus and Draco explained to their friends what their father had said about Neville Longbottom, the compartment door opened yet again. This time, however, there was a bushy haired first year with her front teeth slightly larger than what was considered normal.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully. "My name's Hermoine Granger. I'm looking for a toad… my friend Neville lost hist. Have any of you seen…"

"No," Cyrus responded in annoyance before she could finish. "Someone's already asked…We haven't seen Neville's stupid toad. It would be dead had it found its way in here anyway."

"That's a terrible thing to say!" the girl said in surprise, looking at Cyrus with a rather confused expression.

"Well it's true," Cyrus said casually. "My familiar is rather fond of toads. I don't see what's so terrible about that."

"Your famil…" she started as Sevins' head popped out underneath Cyrus's robes to investigate the conversation his master was having. Hermoine gasped immediately upon seeing the cobra. "A…a snake! The letter says you're only allowed to bring an _owl_, _cat _or _toad_! You're going to get in trouble for that!"

Cyrus smiled for a fraction of a second at her outburst, but then returned to a more sinister expression as he realized he was talking to mudblood. He had never heard of the surname 'Granger,' and she certainly appeared to be foreign to the magical world with her muggle sneakers.

"Does it look like I care… mudblood? Go and tell the professors, see what they say about it," Cyrus replied in a dismissive tone, slamming the compartment door shut with a flick of his hand before she could say another word.

The girl looked stunned for a moment through the window of the compartment door, not at all understanding what had just happened. Her eyes began to fill with trapped tears, causing them to glisten through the glass for a brief moment before walking away with a hurt and lonely expression.

"My goodness!" Pansy burst out in a pompous manner, clearly overreacting. "Does anyone have any manners? Who barges into somebody's compartment without so much as a proper introduction ….and to search for some disgusting toad?"

"Well these are just the type of people we'll be going to school with, Pansy" Theodore explained quickly, taking after his well-spoken father as he continued, "Ill-mannered, improperly bred, and relentlessly impulsive…. It's not their fault," he quickly added in an attempt to sound tolerant. "But if they aren't going to live in the muggle world, where they belong, I feel they should at least know their place."

Everyone in the compartment quickly nodded at these sentiments as if they had been at the tip of all their tongues, except for Cyrus, who was looking directly at Theodore with a pair of inquisitive eyes.

"And what use are they in the muggle world?" he asked frankly, interrupting the casual atmosphere.

"Well… what do we need_ mudbloods_ for? So they can continue to weaken our bloodlines?" the boy asked sarcastically, looking slightly taken aback at his question.

"No," Cyrus replied simply, clearly already having thoughts of his own on the subject. "Proper society needs class structure, Theodore. There must be both a ruling class and a large working class. Muggleborns and blood-traitors are a both a gift and a curse, something we must both confront and embrace, not ignore."

"That's exactly what father said!" Draco exclaimed, finding it humorous that his brother quoted their dad in conversation – as he himself frequently did.

"No Draco…that's what Gellert Grindenwald said," Cyrus responded with a barely audible sigh in his voice. He had already read a number of selected texts on Grindenwald's campaigns during the past couple years of his education and found quite a few of his political ambitions to be very agreeable to his own ideas.

Though he was eleven years old and possessed only a superficial understanding of political philosophy, he was still advanced for his age and never took his education lightly – or at least since starting with his private tutor, Nestor Kozlov.

At hearing Cyrus quote Grindenwald so casually, everyone in the compartment shared a quizzical glance at him before averting their eyes back at the ground or off into space, not quite sure what to say. Draco, who was always the first one to speak, noticed the awkward moment and broke the silence immediately.

"Well… at least we won't have to put up with mudblood nonsense in Slytherin. I mean… you guys will be in Slytherin, right?" Draco gestured to Theodore and the two girls.

Almost instantly, everyone's attention turned to Draco as they all started to brush the question off as if it were rhetorical, touting their family's ancestry in Slytherin and noting their ancient blood status. Cyrus couldn't help but notice the obvious fear hidden in their voices, clearly harboring doubts of being placed in their family's and Draco seemed to be the only ones in the compartment that were completely confident in where they would end up…

**BREAK**

Finally arriving in the main dining hall at Hogwarts, Cyrus could only stare in wonder at his surroundings. Though he had seen the castle before, it was a vastly different experience this time, arriving in a boat where he had a full view of its true grandeur and beauty. As he remembered when he first glimpsed the dining hall during his first visit, it was decorated with a handsome grey stone interior with four massive long tables made of mahogany, which perfectly complimented the charmed ceiling made to resemble a starry night sky. This time though, there was black pointy hat with a barely noticeable face within its creases sitting upon a stool at the front of the room, which Draco and Cyrus both knew to be the sorting hat upon entering.

A few first years had already been sorted into their respective houses and Cyrus knew that his name would be called any moment, being that this list was called alphabetically. Just as Draco was about to whisper 'good luck' to him, they heard Professor McGonagall's sharp voice ring throughout the great hall.

"Cyrus Black!" she called out with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Every professor of Hogwarts – not to mention most every in wizarding England – knew of the infamous Black bloodline and all were interested to see what the last remaining heir would have in store. Every teacher in the hall had hopeful eyes. Sirius Black, who was now teaching the study of magical creatures since Horace Slughorn had taken over the Defense against the Dark Arts, was watching his nephew approach the sorting hat with great interest. He knew he had been raised by the Malfoy's, yet he still had a sliver of hope remaining that he might turn out different than the rest of the Black family. Then there was Dumbledore, who had heard quite a bit about the latest Black heir from Severus due to his weekly potion lessons with the boy, looking on with an eager anticipation that hadn't been seen on his face since Tom Riddle or James Potter were sorted. Professor Snape, who already knew where Cyrus would end up, seemed to be the only teacher in the room with less than mild interest etched into their face.

As Cyrus sat down on the stool with an air of confidence and felt the hat slide past his forehead and over his eyes, an ancient and rather creepy voice entered his head by surprise.

"_Well, well, well, such a fascinating life you lead…Mr. Potter," _the sorting hat began with a cryptic tone and a dark chuckle._ "Born a savior of the light… raised as a beacon of darkness...I wonder…How does your tale unfold?"_

"_I'm a Black," _Cyrus hissed venomously in his mind. _"Now just get on with it."_

"_Of course…"_ the hat said with another dark chuckle. _"Now… let's see…Yes…a very bright mind indeed. You often engage your intellectual abilities and possess a great curiosity for your surroundings, yet what motivates you to study is not the value of knowledge… but success. This removes Ravenclaw..." _the hat finished in a calculating fashion before continuing to the other houses. _"You are also loyal and hardworking, but you are only loyal to those you either deem worthy or useful, and you are only hardworking in those endeavors that you believe will bring you success… which makes you ill-suited for Helga's house…Then we have Gryffindor and Slytherin," _the hat concluded slowly. _"While you are brave, you do not fight in battles you do not believe you can win, and you would rather take your time and plan rather than rush headlong into action, which Godric viewed as a noble quality…While Salazar saw it as foolish…Yes…" _the sorting hat nearly trailed off in a creepy voice before speaking again, "_I see far more Slytherin in you than Gryffindor boy... A true Slytherin… Extreme fear of failure, ambitious to a fault, deceivingly cunning, and Oh yes…" _the hat said in slight surprise. "_… powerful… very powerful indeed, and an heir to Salazar himself!….You could be great you know? It's all here in your head… and Slytherin will certainly help you on your way to greatness, there's no doubt about that…Yes…the only house for you is…_SLYTHERIN!" the sorting hat exclaimed.

Lifting the hat to see a disappointed face on Professor McGonigall, along with all the other professors - save Snape and Slughorn- he turned to head towards the Slytherin table. Being the first one in his grade to be sorted into Slytherin, it was only the older students that cheered for him, all unable to disguise their interest in the boy as he made his way over to them. Nearly every single one of them had heard of Cyrus Black at one point or another, and all were eager to finally find out if the rumors were legitimate.

As he sat down, the two house prefects – Anthony Bishopper and Sylvia Morcott – walked halfway down the long table to take a seat next to him, moving two fourth years out of their way.

"Cyrus Black… It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Slyvia Morcott, house prefect. This is Anthony Bishhoper," the girl gestured to her peer politely, "our other house prefect. The Slytherin house has been eager to greet you for some time now, we'll be here to ensure that your transition into school goes as smoothly as possible."

Cyrus had hoped that his reputation among his relatives and other dark wizarding families wouldn't spill over into school, and that for once he would be able to live an ordinary life. Still, he wasn't surprised to already be receiving such preferential treatment. He knew that as a consequence of his family's pride in him, many Slytherin families already knew of him. While none of the students were aware of his Slytherin heritage, he also knew that everyone in the school was aware that an heir existed. Some within the Slytherin house would likely even believe it to be him, which is something he and his family knew he would have to reveal eventually. Personally, Cyrus knew he would have to prove it rather than reveal it. And though he loathed the constant attention he would inevitably receive, he craved the commanding type of respect that both his father and aunt demanded, nor did he want to fall short of his family's expectations.

After all, he _owed_ the dark ever since the fall of Lord Voldemort, provoking a sense of obligation and duty that had grown stronger over the years as his mind developed.

Looking back at the prefect he could see the curiosity sparkle in her eyes, almost as if she was waiting for him to do something breathtaking. Cyrus was convinced since birth that he was a born leader and he knew the Slytherin way; if he didn't live up to his name and prove himself his admirers would quickly grow impatient and lose faith. He didn't really even know why he wanted to garner anybody's support, yet he had a strange feeling it was something that would make his parents happy – not to mention something that would make his life at Hogwarts much easier.

"Thank you Sylvia…Anthony," Cyrus nodded in Bishhopper's direction, trying to respect his elders the best he knew how. "I have been waiting to arrive at Slytherin's house ever since I can remember. Your assistance is greatly appreciated," finishing with a warm smile as the Ravenclaw table erupted in cheers for their new member, Amanda Bones.

While the rest of the students were being sorted Slyvia and Anthony started to tell him all he needed to know about Hogwarts, though much of it he already knew.

As the rest of the students were sorted Slyvia and Anthony started to tell him all about Hogwarts, though much of it he already knew. The most valuable bit of knowledge he actually received - other than how to avoid Professor McGonnigal's wrath - was probably the information on Peeves the Poltergeist. Apparently the definition of a poltergeist was 'an indestructible spirit of chaos.' It had a body solid enough to move and throw objects and it was something that fed off of conflict and human emotion. Because of this, Peeves was a natural ally to Slytherins, who rarely wore their emotions on their sleeves (often picking on those that did) and almost never starting conflict with their house peers in public. Sylvia and Anthony told him as long as he stayed true to himself and the Slytherin way the poltergeist would likely be an amusing and often helpful resource during his first few years at Hogwarts. The last useful thing they told him was how to get on Filch's good side, a necessary precaution if he wanted to fully enjoy his time at school.

When all the students had been sorted, Cyrus found there to be no real surprises. Knott, Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, Bullstrode, Greengrass and many others all followed their family into Slytherin as expected, while Neville, Ron, and Hermoine Granger were sorted into Gryffindor. As the two prefects left to attend to the other first year Slytherins Draco took his seat next to his brother and started to fill his plate with food from the feast that had just appeared before their eyes. Cyrus, on the other hand, had lost his appetite upon seeing the headmaster, not even bothering to touch his plate. His first sight of the old man brought forth memories he had tried to crush long ago. He couldn't help but reminisce on what Regulus' portrait had told him of James Potter, or how Dumbledore had practically brainwashed the man during childhood. As far as Cyrus was concerned, Albus Dumbledore had destroyed the lives of his biological family and had twice brought destruction upon the dark wizarding families of England – once when he defeated Grindenwald and again when he helped incarcerate the majority of Lord Voldemort's followers.

After everyone had finished eating Dumbledore rose to say a few opening remarks as he always did before the start of term, but Cyrus didn't hear a word. Rage was already dripping through his veins and he was barely able to contain himself by the time the headmaster was done. Just as the old man finished with, "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" a strong wind filled through the room and several glasses on the Slytherin table instantly shattered into a fine glass dust -the lights flickering with a fury.

Everyone in the great hall turned to the Slytherin table at once, all trying to figure out who caused the commotion. Even the professors were looking to see who could have possibly caused the eruption, mainly eyeing the older students. Snape, however, was already on his way to the table gesturing for his prefects to rise and lead his Slytherins to the privacy of the common room.

Rising in unison, the Slytherins obediently followed their prefects and head of house out of the dining hall and downstairs near the dungeons, where the house quarters were located. Not one of them were willing to question a fellow peer in public, though they were all clearly just as eager to find out who caused the impressive accidental magic as anyone. Cyrus, meanwhile, could have hit myself for not being able to control his anger, and was now the subject of many suspicious glances from the older students as they took the first flight of stairs down towards their dormitories.


	9. Chapter 9

Walking to his first class the very next morning, Cyrus had managed to put the events of the night before behind him, now focusing on being the best student he possibly could. Ever since he could remember he had waited for the moment to be sorted into his family's house, knowing that his journey in rebuilding his family's legacy as the last remaining heir to both the Black and Slytherin bloodlines started at Hogwarts. He had feared this responsibility when he was younger and did not yet fully understand his burden, but over time he grew accustomed to such high expectations and learned to embrace his role in dark wizarding society. It wasn't that he sought or craved for attention, but he now had a firmer conviction in what he was brought up to believe and a clearer vision of whom many hoped him to become. He was now determined to fulfill those hopes and to prove his family right in placing so much faith in him.

As he walked into to Professor Slughorn's classroom, he sat down with Draco and waited quietly for class to start along with the rest of the Slytherins. The Gryffindors – who paired with the Slytherins in all classes except for Charms and extracurricular studies – on the other hand, were as rambunctious as ever. Luckily, there were no other classes anywhere near Defense against the Dark Arts, as their chatter could probably be heard echoing down the thick stone corridors.

Just as Ron Weasley and Seamus Finnegan started to shout at each other from across the classroom though, Slughorn walked in and shut the door softly. Most of the Gryffindor's stopped their chatter at once as they saw the old man enter, though many could still be heard whispering and giggling to each other - a few girls squeaking like new born mice as the professor strode past them and towards his grand mahogany desk.

Sitting down on what looked to be some type of miniature throne with a red velvet cushion, Slughorn began to pour himself some tea as he muttered to the class as if he were already tired of the constant noise, "Quiet now…Quiet now…"

Waiting for another thirty seconds for the class to quiet down as he casually sipped his tea; he finally set aside his cup and looked up at his students. Time had carved lines of exhaustion into the old man's face, yet his gooseberry eyes seemed alive and vibrant as he surveyed each and every student in silence. He took great pride in identifying and schooling young talents, and every year was the same. Old Horace Slughorn would always begin the first day of class with his first year students by sizing up each and every one of them, often times through competition. When he taught Advanced Potions in his earlier days for fifth years and up, he would usually brew a prize of Felix Felicis for the winner of his first day contests. It was one of his ways of letting young talents shine in his class, or as he put it, a way of 'letting the cream rise to the top.'

"Welcome to Defense against the Dark Arts," Professor Slughorn began in a pleasant tone. "I know many of you are probably already eager to duel… learn to battle the dark forces and what not. However, I should inform you that you will likely only learn six, maybe seven very basic spells during your first year at Hogwarts. Like other magic, the Dark Arts is broke into several different branches. The two main branches we will be focusing on are standard and defensive spells," he went on robotically. "During our first year together we will primarily work to master some elementary defensive spells along with some standard healing spells as well. As for today though… everyone will participate in a bit of friendly competition," the old professor finished in a lively manner.

As he finished, the Slytherins began to stare at Slughorn with calculating expressions written on their faces, while most of the Gryffindors already appeared eager to brandish their wands and have a go at it.

"Easy now…" Slughorn chuckled as he saw his student's reactions. "There will be no dueling for quite some time of course," he continued reassuringly, "I am here so that you may have the means to defend yourselves should the need ever arise, not so that you may willfully cause harm to others. Therefore…in your first lesson today…you will be learning how to defend against the deadliest form of magic known to witch or wizard."

Ignoring the commotion that began to simmer among the Gryffindors, Slughorn slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone no bigger than a snitch. Holding it out between his fingers, he peered among the puzzled faces and gave a hardly noticeable grin.

"It is the crudest and most elementary form of the dark arts. If ever in the midst of battle…it is likely your opponent will not need to perform a complicated or energy draining curse to harm you. A simple spell will usually do the trick just fine if you're quick enough.

For example…" he continued as he took out his wand and whipped it in a circular motion toward the ceiling, causing the rock to dart out of his hand in a silvery flash. Within a split second, the rock had been transformed into a metal blade and was wobbling back and forth as it protruded from the chestnut door in the back of the classroom.

"You see… that took a fraction of the time and energy had I preformed a more powerful spell," Slughorn professed to the class, who were all paying full attention by now. "You must first learn to protect yourselves from sticks and stones… then we shall move on to spells and curses. Now…if you will, everyone stand.

Not wasting a second, everyone shot up from their seat and waited quietly for instructions. Everyone was clearly eager to see what type of competition they would be engaging in; even Draco seemed mildly interested in what the old professor had in mind. Once everyone was standing, Slughorn flicked his wand again and all the desks and chairs were reduced to the size of chess pieces, which were then levitated to rest on top of his ornate desk in the front of the classroom. Cyrus, along with a number of other Slytherins, looked on in amazement as their professor casually moved the miniature furniture lying on his desk to the side as if he had done nothing at all, explaining to them what they would soon be doing.

"Today you will be learning how to deflect incoming objects. Wallaby…" Slughorn looked in Ron's direction, "if you will help demonstrate by throwing the stone next to the door at me?"

Ron, who was amazed that Slughorn still didn't know his surname after teaching Bill, Percy, and the twins, appeared befuddled by the request but obeyed nonetheless. Picking up the stone next to the doorway – or the knife that had now transfigured back into its original state – he tossed it to the professor in a gentle underhand throw.

Slughorn waited until the stone was only a few feet away until he flicked his wand with ease, causing the stone to be gently reflected to his side as if it had hit a wall of iron. There was no incantation or colorful streams of light, just a few sparks from the tip of Slughorn's wand and the noise of the rock rolling on the floor.

"Just a natural defensive reflex of your wand," Slughorn voiced casually. "Nothing that will protect you from any spells of course, however, it is very effective if attempting to maneuver large debris. Though you…" he paused as he lowered his spectacles and smiled at his students, "will be starting with cotton balls. Just to make it a bit of fun…the first to deflect one will receive a very special prize."

Draco and Cyrus looked at each other and smiled as they heard this, knowing one of them would win. Neither one of them had ever actually preformed what Slughorn was asking of them – as shocking as it was to Cyrus that Nestor had never covered such a simple defense – but it seemed easy enough. Draco was nearly capable of producing a basic protego shield, while Cyrus was already studying some of the more advanced protections.

After nearly ten minutes of partnering up and throwing cotton balls back and forth to each other, no one in the class had yet to produce so much as a spark. Slughorn looked as though he had expected this, glancing up from his desk every now and then as he wrote a letter – humming merrily to himself all the while. Suddenly though, as Cyrus pretended the cotton ball coming towards him to be a dagger like the one Slughorn had produced, a shiny white sheet of miniature stars erupted in front of him and deflected the cotton ball – or what was now a glimmering silver knife.

At once, the entire class stopped upon witnessing the scene, Neville Lonbottom allowing the cotton ball thrown at him to bounce off his forehead as he looked on. Slughorn dropped his quill as his eyebrows rose as high as they could, not quite believing what he had just seen. Only in storybooks and fairy tales had he heard of the magic he had just witnessed. After a few moments of awkward silence though, the professor shook his head as if he believed his old eyes to be playing tricks on him and calmly congratulated Cyrus.

"Well done…er…" Slughorn stumbled. "What was your name again my boy?"

"Cyrus….Cyrus Black," Cyrus responded curtly.

"Aw yes….of course. Cyrus Black…" Horace let the name roll off his tounge as if saying it to himself, finally letting out a dark chuckle. "I've heard of _you _of course. Not everyday we day we get a first year who can transfigure cotton balls into knives now is it?"

Not sure exactly how to respond to the old man's inquiry, Cyrus replied with a simple 'thank you, sir' before everyone continued on with the lesson. It wasn't long before the entire class was refocused on their tasks and began throwing the cotton balls back and forth to each other again. Slughorn, however, didn't return his attention to the letter he was writing. Instead, he kept an eye on Cyrus's knife – now on his desk - which had still not transformed back into its original state at the end of class.

**BREAK…**

As Cyrus arrived back in his room to store the bottle of Felix Felicis that Slughorn had gave him in a rather hesitant manner, he noticed a giant leather trunk resting next to his four poster bed. It had dark green dragon hide covering its exterior with shiny golden buttons lining the edges. On the very center of the trunk was a letter, which Cyrus quickly tore away. It read…

_Dear Cyrus-_

_As you probably know by now, I have sent you a collapsed trunk. I had wanted to give it you before you left, but I'm afraid your mother would have been a tad upset with me. Inside is a collection of books_ _I compiled from Riddle Manor, along with a couple of other personal affects of his that you might find useful. All of our hopes are in you, do not let us down. _

_Your loving father,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_P.S… This letter will be disintegrated immediately, you know the password._

Throwing the letter on the ground as it sparked into flame, Cyrus's heart skipped a beat as he realized what his father had just sent him…


	10. Chapter 10

"Greatest of the Hogwarts four," Cyrus hissed in parseltounge.

Immediately, the trunk opened with an ancient creak that reminded Cyrus of just how long it might have been before anyone else had stepped foot inside.

"Lumos," he whispered as Sevins slithered off his shoulders and into the entrance.

Stepping forward himself, Cyrus took a glance at his surroundings as he closed the trunk door. His jaw dropped at once.

He had expected a small dusted study with cobwebs and worn furniture scattered about, and instead found himself in awe of the spectacle now in front of him. The room consisted of two stories with a spiral staircase leading down to a lavishly designed library with stone walls, mahogany furniture and antique tapestries of green and silver covering the polished wooden floor. Peering around the second floor he was now on he noticed a magnificent king sized bed, a red brick fire place, and a large steaming bath with several fossetts running of different colored bubbles that emitted a wonderful fragrance that wafted through the air. Even more surprising than the size and splendor of the room was the pristine condition it had been left in. It was as if the Dark Lord had graced his study just yesterday, which strangely made Cyrus feel more and more comfortable and secure in his new surroundings by the moment.

Descending the spiral stair case and entering Lord Voldemort's former study, he found himself in astonishment over the number of books that one man could possibly own as he found his way to the main desk in the center of the room. Sitting down in the same ordinary chair that the Dark Lord had once used, shivers shot down Cyrus' spine as if a lightning bolt had hit a steel rod. It was an indescribable sensation, if only because the insignificance he felt in the shadow of man he was told to be so great.

Unlike the rest of the room, there was nothing fanciful or elaborate about the desk he was now in front of, just a simple yet elegant oak desk with three drawers lining each side along with a center drawer accompanied with a golden serpent emblem in the middle. Checking each drawer for anything Voldemort might have left behind, he only found scraps of parchment with what he assumed to be his handwriting on various subjects. As he stacked them neatly and put them to one side for later use, he noticed that the middle drawer had been locked.

"Greatest of the Hogwarts four," he hissed casually, expecting the drawer to pop right open. However, to his surprise, it remained shut and unmoved.

"That's odd…" he uttered to himself, trying to think of any other password that the Dark Lord would have used.

"Open?" Cyrus hissed in question, not expecting anything at all to happen.

To his surprise though, the drawer shot right open, stopping only inches away from his chest.

"Of course…" he mumbled to himself in good humor.

Searching the contents of the desk, he was left rather puzzled at only finding a single book. What was even more baffling was that the book wasn't on any academic work or subject matter concerning the Dark Arts – of which his library was filled – but a fairy tale that appeared to be hundreds if not thousands of years old. The title read, "The Legend of Lord Tyranicus."

Furrowing his eyes at the name – noticing it was the same name as his familiars', Tyranicus Sevincore – he gently cracked open the book to start reading. Being a fairly short read with very little information given, he managed to breeze through it in less than half an hour. As he finished though, he found himself somewhat perplexed that a children's book had been locked away in Lord Voldemort's desk as if it had been some sort of prized possession, with hardly any mention of the Dark Arts in any academic context. He reread the story over and over again to find anything at all that he might have missed, something of significance to the real world. Still, he found nothing.

Cyrus sat back in his chair and began to ponder of what the story meant exactly, contemplating on whether or not there was any particle of truth behind the tale. Never in his life had he heard of Lord Tyranicus before, and he knew his father – who was a knowledgeable man by any standard – told him everything he knew. Surely he would have told him of such an astounding legend, he thought to himself. After all, it was a legend of the very first Dark Lord after the time of Merlin.

It was said that thousands and thousands of years ago a bastard offspring of Merlin and an unknown, illegitimate dark witch was abandoned and left for dead. However, for one strange reason or another, snakes, dragons, ghouls and all sorts of dark creatures suddenly came flocking to him as if he were one of their own. Somehow, the boy had managed to stay alive and teach himself the ways of sorcery under the protection of these creatures. Eventually, he became so powerful and in-tune with the Dark Arts that he was able to control the shadows of the earth, command all dark creatures at his will, and even raise the dead from their graves. Years later, upon becoming a man, he created a scepter no wand could compete with and eventually garnered hundreds of followers that built a safe-haven for dark blooded witches and wizards larger than the eye could see. Lord Tyranicus came to rule the magical world for over two hundred years until his opposition became so vast that he made a decision that would forever change the course of history. It was either he vanquish the opposition and risk extinction of the magical world, or sacrifice himself so that it could live on. In this, he ultimately allowed himself and his followers to be defeated, but not until he had concealed the scepter and his fortress for his heir, one that he prophesied to come thousands of years later to lend balance to the magical world at a time of great peril – a time when the dark needed him most.

Cyrus looked off into space as he tried to fathom why Lord Voldemort had considered this legend to be so valuable. Could he have possibly believed it to be true?

Shaking his head in wonderment, he was about to put the book back in the drawer when he saw his original name written on the very last page in Lord Voldemort's handwriting. Below the name 'Harry Potter,' was an unfinished prophecy that read: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…"

Below this prophecy was a small and incomplete list of Cyrus' exact physical attributes, the location of his birth, and his birth parents. At the very bottom of the last page he found yet another couple of sentences that appeared to be formatted as a prophecy would. Still, he found himself unable to read the text as he figured it to be some type of ancient language he had never seen before.

Tapping his wand against the book to translate the text – a useful spell he had learned from his tutor, Nestor Kozlov – the words remained unchanged, much to his disappointment.

Sighing in frustration, Cyrus closed the book and placed it back in the middle drawer of Lord Voldemort's old desk. Questions immediately began to blitz his mind in a rampant manner as he leaned back in his chair and began to sort out all the information he had just been given….

BREAK….

"You are absolutely sure of this, Horace?" Nicholas Flamel asked urgently.

"Completely," Professor Slughorn responded unequivocally, knowing Flamel to be the only man he could trust in such a matter. "Yesterday afternoon, this knife was a cotton ball Nicholas. This morning….it remains a knife, and one that I cannot transfigure. I saw it myself! A flash of white magic, just as it is described in your text. Go on… give it a go if you don't believe me."

Nicholas continued to pace back and forth with a hardened expression of intense curiosity, until finally, he whirled his long ruby robes behind him and whipped out his wand with an intricate twirl in less than a half second as he pointed it directly at the dagger in Slughorn's hand, half expecting it to transform back into its original state.

When nothing happened, Flamel looked slightly taken aback before he attempted once more. Yet again, the knife remained unchanged.

"Incendio!" he roared.

Still, nothing happened. Both men stood quite still in Nicholas' study, neither knowing exactly to what to say, nor were they ready to acknowledge the reality of the situation. And yet… incontrovertible evidence lay right in front of them, one of the most basic and fundamental laws of magic had been broken by a mere child.

"What do we do?" Slughorn asked hoarsely after a full minute of silence.

"What can we do?" Flamel replied with a forceful tenor. "You are a dark blooded wizard Horace…as I have dark magical blood running through my veins as well," he continued with a more reserved tone. "You know as well as I do, our families made binding magical oaths during Tyranicus' days… and we are held to it to this very day."

"Why then….he must know! We must tell him!" Horace shouted.

"No!" Nicholas slammed his fist against his desk with a tone of finality. "Our oath is to help and protect him. He must find out on his own…this much is imperative."

"Nicholas…" Professor Slughorn sighed in frustration. "Dumbledore will find out! One way or another…you mark my words, even if he doesn't know of the prophecy now…eventually he will! And even if he doesn't! Who knows what could happen when he discovers his abilities. What happens then? He must either be sent away from Hogwarts at once or be informed of the truth!"

"Don't be a fool!" Flamel roared in anger before calming himself a bit, "We cannot intervene in his path Horace. .. this much is clear in the prophecy. What we can do…is lend a guiding hand…and perhaps a little push. As for Dumbledore… I know I can't keep him from the child indefinitely, but at least long enough until he and his family are aware of the nature of his destiny. For now…. That will have to do."

Slughorn, who now looked as if he had seen someone murder a ghost right in front of him, slapped his callous hand against his forehead as he let out another long sigh. "The Malfoys…" he fumed in an exasperated fashion, "they are the most…most infuriating! Bigoted! Self-serving! Stuck up- !"

"Enough!" Flamel interrupted his rant. "The dark is in shambles, Horace. Unfortunately… I helped see to that. But now we must come together. The dark must either mend its wounds and recreate the balance that once existed ….or sooner or later…face extinction. Our family's oath is our word, and though the order meant to help this child has dwindled greatly, it is still great enough to see this prophecy through."

"The prophecy…." Horace muttered to himself absent mindedly. "But how can it be? A Black? A Black raised by the Malfoys? It just doesn't make any sense, Nicholas. The prophecy states 'raised by darkness, born from the ashes of the light,'… It just…It just can't be! The Malfoy's may fit the bill," Slughorn rolled his eyes, "but there isn't a shred of light blood in the entire Black family tree! How can it be that Cyrus Black –"

Nicholas held up his hand for silence as he drew in a deep breath. It had been a decade now since the dark had fallen, yet he remembered nearly everything that happened the night Lord Voldemort was defeated.

Ending their discussion with a twinkle in his eye, Flamel closed by saying, "I am not sure Cyrus Black is a Black at all…my good friend. The entire wizarding world may have had the wool pulled over their eyes by one man," finishing with an amusing smile rather than the visage of anger that Horace might have expected with these words.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

(*remember… Cyrus' physical features resembles that of a Black, as he does not look very much like a Potter anymore)

As dawn approached an arrestingly resplendent castle nestled in the depths of northern Scotland, a few beams of light crept into the Slytherin dungeons like a thief; intent upon stealing the much needed rest from the exhausted souls in dorm chamber number seven. However, before the sun could gently rouse the chamber mates, an ear-piercing 'crack' echoed throughout the room. At once, the haughty first year aristocrats shot upright from their beds to catch the culprit who dared to wake them five minutes early, Draco Malfoy with a murderous expression plastered onto his face.

To everyone's bewilderment though, it was their unsanctioned chieftain Cyrus Black, who had seemingly been up all night studying in his new collapsed trunk and had carelessly slammed his door in what appeared to be exasperation.

Draco, who had instantly contorted his dignified features back into their somewhat usual pleasantries, was clearly no longer bothered by the rude awakening, shouting after Cyrus as he left the dormitory, "Everything all right, mate?!"

"Fine," he replied indifferently as he waltzed out the door with a wicked grimace lingering on his lips, somehow already bathed and groomed for the day.

Having skipped class the last few days under the alibi of illness, Cyrus had been mostly locked away in the Dark Lord's trunk in complete seclusion ever since discovering the text that lay in his middle drawer. Originally, he had thought that there must have been some kind of mistake in seeing his name written in the back Lord Tyranicus' tale, or perhaps a mere coincidence. Nevertheless, the more he tried to push the evident truth out of his mind the faster it came racing back to him, screaming of incontrovertible validity. Because of this, Cyrus had read through dozens of Lord Voldemort's own academic works by now in an attempt to discredit him in his mind as a mad man who had a loose grip on factuality. Unfortunately, what he had found was that while Tom Riddle had inarguably gone mad at some point before his downfall, he was also undeniably brilliant.

Cyrus was now seething in acrimony, fortuitously concealing his righteous indignation from others as he headed for the main dining hall. His life simply wasn't fair, he thought to himself. He did genuinely believe that he was indebted to the dark's cause of course, but ever since he was born unfathomable expectations had been heaped upon him as if he were some kind of god meant to rescue humanity from their own sheer asininity and folly. In reality though, he was simply a child that wanted what any other young wizard his age might want – friends, family, and freedom. Yet, fate seemed to have robbed him of any liberty to enjoy the friends and family he did have, always having other designs for him at every turn. Once expected to one day fulfill his destiny as then new lord of the dark's cause, fate was now asking of him a much larger responsibility, one that he had no plans of pursuing and one that he felt he had absolutely no obligation or duty to carry out. Besides, reaching Lord Voldemort's potential was daunting enough – often believing he would never be able to match his abilities. To think he would ever be able to contest with Lord Tyranicus was foolish in the extreme, as he felt his ancient abilities far surpassed his own.

Finally reaching the main dining hall, he found himself to be the very first Slytherin to arrive. Thanking god that he was, he decided to forget all about Lord Tyranicus' tale and refocus on his school work, and more importantly his families' wishes for him – as intimidating as they were. Just as he began to calm down and reach for a platter of spiced goose meat though, a school owl came swooping overhead to drop a piece of mail on his plate.

Not even bothering to see who it was from, Cyrus immediately tore the envelope open and began perusing the letter. It read –

Dear Cyrus-

I hope all is going well at school dear, Lucius and I miss you very much already. I know it's early but we were thinking that we might go to Switzerland over the holidays. How do you think you and Draco would feel about that? It's some time from now, so you'll have plenty of time to decide, of course. Anyway…I thought you might be interested to know how your father's rabbit is doing (…makes me laugh every time seeing those two together, such an odd couple they are), as there have been some remarkable developments ever since you left for Hogwarts. There are already a dozen rabbits in the garden…well I shouldn't say garden anymore… The manor is now surrounded by what appears to be the beginnings of a jungle, and as an expert in herbology I can say that I am truly in fascination… not having even heard of some of the plants currently growing. Don't tell your father I said so but it's actually quite humorous as well… as your father is required to go through a series of formalities with the rabbits just to enter the house coming home from work. Not to say that he isn't pleased…he surely is, but I can tell he gets quite irritated at times. At any rate, I hope you and Draco write us back soon and let us know how school is going. We love you both very much.

-Your mother

Allowing a hint of a smile to grace his lips for the first time in days, Cyrus folded the letter and put it in his silk emerald robes, planning to show Draco later on.

Hoping he would hear from Aunt Bella sooner rather than later, he finished his breakfast in a hurry before heading off to his first class of the day…

BREAK….

"Well Mr. Black…I'm waiting," Professor McGonagall chirped in a rather vexatious tenor, almost as if she were trying to provoke am impudent response.

The aging witch had singled Cyrus out promptly upon entering her classroom, evidently none too pleased with his unpardoned absence throughout the week. Supposedly, every Friday was an examination day for first year transfiguration students in order to prove whether or not they were able to complete their given task throughout the week. The first week's assignment, to Cyrus' surprise, was turning matchsticks into needles.

Never in his life had he been asked to accomplish a chore of such utter simplicity. Then again, only on rare occasions in his life had he the opportunity of pursuing his education in the midst of other young witches and wizards, as he was nearly always tutored in private by his famed tutor, Nestor Kozlov. Glancing around the classroom, he noticed that every other student was attempting to salvage some practice time with their matchstick before their upcoming examination, all unsuccessful in their fruitless endeavors. Even Hermoine Granger hadn't been able to transform her matchstick into a perfect needle, which was slightly flawed in one way or another. It came as a shock to him that only Draco appeared to have mastered the assignment, who had also previously endured extensive tutoring at home.

How everyone else around him could be so ordinary was an enigma to him. But then… quite suddenly, as if Merlin had struck him with a magical bolt of confidence, he thought that maybe it wasn't his peers after all…but him. He knew he was talented, and perhaps even a prodigy, but this….it was something he had never expected in all his life. The fact that others around him were unable to simply transform a matchstick into a needle was flabbergasting to him.

Seeing an opportunity to prove himself at once, the first step in becoming the wizard his family wished him to be, he looked up at Professor McGonagall's beady eyes with a slight smirk curling on his lips.

"All you want is a needle?" he asked amusingly, "That's no fun. Why don't we start with a more comfortable chair for you to sit in or perhaps a snake or something and just go from there?"

Professor McGonagall's stern countenance, one that reminded Cyrus of a muggle nun, immediately faded to one of an entertainedsuperior, chuckling in a condescending manner as she prepared herself for a tirade of the boys' childish and ill-conceived notions regarding the delicate art called transfiguration.

"My dear boy…" she began in superficial merriness, "I think that you will find the subtle nuances required to master this branch of magic to be far out of your reach at the moment. If you had ever –"

At once, there was an audible spark as Cyrus casually flicked his wand towards his matchstick, transforming it into a six foot cobra, one that almost perfectly resembled his familiar.

There were gasps everywhere as the snake started to hiss madly in a startled fashion. Quickly finding this as another perfect opportunity,Cyrus started speaking to the snake in parseltounge.

"I command you…do not harm anyone...Come to me."

Backing away slowly from Professor McGonagall's ghastly expression, the cobra slithered up Cyrus' arm and rested itself around his shoulders in a protective manner, which instantly provoked Sevins to come out beneath his master's robes and do the same.

Quickly gazing around the classroom, he saw that every single student save Draco and Pansy were either on their feet looking at one another in hysteria to confirm what they had just seen, or sitting in their chair wearing horrific faces, seemingly afraid to move an inch.

"Ssshall we eat her, master?" Sevins hissed almost pleadingly, as if he were tempted to spring forward and devour the old bat right then and there.

Before Cyrus could respond though, there was a loud thud. At turning his head away from his frightened peers and back towards Professor McGonagall in the matter of a heartbeat, he saw their teacher lying on the floor with her limbs sprawled.

Professor McGonagall had just fainted.

BREAK…

After the Gryffindors had left to carry Professor McGonagall's unconscious body down to the hospital wing, all the Slytherins began to follow Cyrus to their next class in awe, all whispering and chattering in the back of the crowd as if he were not able to hear them.

Cyrus, who had certainly not planned on causing his professor to faint, was now smiling inwardly to himself as Draco ran to the front of the herd.

"Well…if that cotton ball trick wasn't an introduction, then this certainly was, eh?" he asked excitedly, obviously proud that he was able to be in front of the crowd with his brother.

Revealing his smile a bit, Cyrus only nodded his head before adopting a more sincere disposition. "Yes…yes it is. But we aren't done yet," he said casually, making sure to include Draco as if he had actually played a role. "Our family wants Slytherin united, if that means we must lead them….then we must first prove ourselves…..to everyone."

Draco noticed the rare air of supreme confidence in his brother's voice and the look of intense focus. He was marching with a sense of purpose now and conducting himself in a manner he never had before. Deciding to stay silent and allow his brother to concentrate on whatever it was he was thinking of, as did Theodore and Pansy who followed closely behind, Draco only watched as his brother began to transform right in front of him. Of course, it wasn't that Cyrus had never been confident, but he had never really been a leader in the entirety of the word. The fact that he was now leading an entire class of Slytherins like ducks in line, all looking at him like he was a prophet that had just preformed miracles, was most certainly a first.

As they reached a rather impressive log cabin just outside the forbidden forest, where Sirius Black now taught the care of magical creatures, everyone stopped walking the exact moment Cyrus did.

It was only a few moments later when the Gryffindors came hurrying along, who were led by Seamus Finnegan and the outspoken Ron Weasley. It looked as if every Gryffindor desperately wanted to say something cutting to Cyrus and the rest of the Slytherins, and yet had somehow managed to restrain themselves – an uncharacteristic moment for them, to be sure.

Still, as if on que, it was only a few minutes longer before Ron burst out in Cyrus' direction.

"So… the great Cyrus Black," Ron began sarcastically. "You're the heir of Slytherin everyone has been talking about, aren't you? I don't know why Dumbledore hasn't banned your house…a bunch of slimy gits, the lot of you! If it were me in charge –"

"Silence!" Cyrus voiced with a casual force in his tenor, almost acting as if Ron were a house elf as he waived his hand nonchalantly in Ron's direction - wandlessly casting a silencing spell he had learned from Nestor. Again, Draco noticed his air of confidence was growing larger by the second.

Ron, whose lips kept moving until he noticed that his voice had abandoned him, looked absolutely furious as he covered his mouth in embarrassment.

Everyone in the class, both Slytherins and the startled Gryffindors, were now speechless as they looked at Cyrus in total shock. He was casually commanding the respect of his fellow Slytherins while instilling fear in all first year Gryffindors.

Before anyone else dared to utter a word, Professor Black waltzed out of his cabin in his usual cheerful self; arms spread wide open as if he wanted to embrace the entire class at once.

"First years! First years! My favorite bunch of students! Welcome to Care and Defense of Magical Creatures!" he began warmly with a slight chuckle. "Well…I added that second part on my own, but being the former defense teacher….it's quite true. I should tell you now, Dumbledore wishes me to not only teach you how to care for magical creatures, but also defend yourself. So don't let the title of this class fool you …..Anyway, let us not waste any time, the class is too short as it is! Today…you will be learning to defend yourself against a boggart."

As Sirius started to explain the nature of a boggart to the entire class, Cyrus could feel his blood trickle with anger throughout his veins. As far as he was concerned, this was the man who had recklessly caused the death of his mother. They only shared a few awkward glances throughout his speech, yet he never stumbled once, acting as if Regulus' son meant nothing to him.

Trying to take his mind off of Sirius so that he didn't cause another magical outburst like he had in Dumbledore's presence, Cyrus took leisure in seeing how Draco was holding up. His brother, however, didn't seem fazed at all by the man and was listening to his speech on the boggart quite intently, which he supposed wasn't too odd as they had no real history together.

Just as Cyrus was about to turn his attention back to Sirius though, he noticed a ray of light shed from the trees above shine on Draco for a few seconds. His mangled blonde hair was speckled with dirt, though its radiance seemed ever sustaining – a light golden crown with hints of rubies that faded back to honey blonde during the longer summer days of the year. His hair had always been a secret pride of Draco's – much to Cyrus' humor – and it was peculiar that he had left it in such a disorderly state. Taking a mental note of this, Cyrus turned back to Sirius to hear what he had to say.

"Now…go ahead and form a line and we'll begin immediately!" Sirius directed excitedly, having already finished his speech on the boggart.

It was no surprise to Cyrus at this point when the Slytherins immediately formed a single file line behind him, whose actions were then reluctantly followed by the Gryffindors. However, Cyrus suddenly wished that his peers had gotten in line in front of him, as he had never faced a boggart before and was afraid of what the results might be. The only two things he was afraid of was a disappointed look on his father's face or the impossible reincarnation of Lord Voldemort, neither of which he wanted the class to see… particularly Sirius regarding the latter. Yet, here he was as the first one in line with absolutely no choice whatsoever.

"Aw…Cyrus! Right? Good of you to volunteer!" Sirius congratulated, obviously attempting to make their student – teacher relationship seem less awkward than it was. "When I open this trunk next to me I want you to do exactly as I said. Understand? It is vital that you pronounce correctly. Now….on three."

Cyrus, who didn't really hear Sirius' instructions at all, was now starting to panic as the count began.

"…two….three!" Sirius bellowed in excitement as he opened the trunk.

Right away a jet black mist came rushing out of the trunk and began to whirl in unimaginable speeds. Cyrus, as well as the entire class, was waiting for something appallingly horrid to appear before him. However, the black figure did not stop whirling as it approached Cyrus. Instead, it began to decelerate and lose shape as it neared closer and closer to him.

The entire classroom's anticipation grew into dying curiosity as the black figure halted within feet of Cyrus, and rather than morphing, stopped whirling entirely and appeared as a shrouded black mist absent of any real shape. It was here and now that the very first boggot was seen by wizarding eyes in its original form, right at the nose of Cyrus Black.


	12. Chapter 12

thoughts? suggestions? constructive criticism?

I would appreciate all comments or questions (which will be answered) either on review or PM


	13. Chapter 13

to be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

The entire class was now looking on as if an angel had started to descend from the heavens, rendered oblivious to their earthly milieu and captivated entirely by the supernatural. The flutter of a butterfly might have been audible in the sheer muteness of it all. Even Sirius, their professor and superior, was lost in absolute wonder at what was now occurring before their very eyes.

Just as the dark shrouded mist encapsulated Cyrus and elevated him several feet into the air, he felt a celestial aura rush into his body, as if the creature was breathing a divine sensation of newfound life into his soul, purging him of his worldly fears and terrors. The air now entering his lungs felt refreshingly cold as flashbacks of blissful childhood memories fleeted through his mind, causing a euphoric ambience to suddenly erupt within him. To Cyrus, there was only one word to articulate the feeling within him as the boggart continued to lift him higher and higher– inhuman. It was as if a spirit had entered his soul, enrapturing him and imparting upon him the happiest moment of his young life.

In the spur of a moment, however, he was released from the shrouded mist as Sirius snapped out of his wonderment and banished the boggart back into its trunk while Cyrus gradually descended back to the ground. He almost felt reincarnated now, with a strange energy coursing through his veins as if a great spirit had just baptized him with water straight from the Holy Grail. If it weren't for the entire class staring at him like he were a fallen angel that just rose from the depths of hell, he might have directed his wand at Sirius for interfering in such an angelic experience.

"Everyone!" Sirius shouted hoarsely, his face as pale as a ghost's, "t-that's enough for today! The boggart… doesn't seem to be…uh…behaving right now. Back to your houses! All of you! Or….or wherever your schedule leads you. Go on now!"

With that, the Gryffindors and Slytherins went their separate ways as they hesitantly started back to the castle, every one of them rather confused at what had just happened. The Gryffindors seemed timid and unwilling to say anything at all as they trudged back, while the Slytherins merely started their whispering gossip all over again as they followed Cyrus to wherever he intended on going, few of them fully understanding what had just actually happened.

BREAK…

Albus Dumbledore tirelessly grasped his forehead and began to trace the wrinkles of age gradually carved by the tribulations of his time with coarse and steady fingers, desperately attempting to understand what a frantic Minverva McGonagall had just told him. Of course, he had certainly heard of Cyrus Black before. In fact, he was well informed of the boy's growing legend in dark circles. Yet, it wasn't until just now that he truly believed that the announcement of a Slytherin heir years ago was anything other than a publicity stunt meant to rally the post-war remnants of dark wizarding England. After all, Severus had always claimed that the Malfoys and Blacks had greatly exaggerated the boy's abilities, which had made perfect sense to him at the time.

Still, if what Minerva told him was true…

"Albus!" Sirius' voice reverberated up the stone-laden stairwell before he appeared before the headmaster in a rather similar state of being that he just witnessed Minerva in.

Groaning, Dumbledore tore his half-moon spectacles from his eyes in frustration before he gently laid them on his desk.

"It's Cyrus Black! He just –"

Albus closed his eyes in agitation as he lifted a hand to halt his frenzied professor, "I know…I know Sirius," he sighed as if there was some finality in his words, "I don't need to be told again my boy…I may be old… but I promise you my hearing has hardly abandoned me. Minerva must have told me a hundred times already, the boy's a parselmouth."

At once, Sirius stopped his approach toward the headmaster's desk, looking as if an invisible hand had just slapped him out of nowhere.

"A what!?" he roared, obviously even further in shock than he was just a moment ago and hoping to Merlin that he had somehow just misheard the old man.

"A parsel-" Albus stopped mid-sentence, his eyes darting up at the man in a grave manner as his attention was immediately recaptured by Sirius' reaction. "…Do you mean to say that there is…. something else…you wish to tell me about the boy?"

Sirius was wearing a horrid expression. He had been so confident in what he had planned on telling the headmaster, but was now rendered speechless and lost in his own train of thought. There had never been a parselmouth in the Black family before. The boy couldn't possibly...

"Sirius!" Dumbledore nearly shouted in uncharacteristic impatience, clearly worried about the news he was about to be given. "What is it that you wish to tell me?"

Sirius quickly shook his head as he snapped out of his frightful trance. "I….I…" he continued to stutter for a moment before finishing succinctly, "I think I had better sit down Albus…."

There was a brief moment of silence as Sirius lowered himself into a simple gold and red cushioned chair across from Dumbledore's oversized and excessively ornate throne. He didn't really know to begin, as he himself could only guess as to what the reality of the scenario might have been. Nonetheless, Sirius started from the very beginning and articulated the event to the best of his ability in hopes that Dumbledore would have an answer. He found himself sounding like a first year near the end of his description, using diction such as 'whirling black mist' and 'cloud-like,' though he figured an elementary characterization of the boggart would have to suffice, being that no one had ever witnessed one in its natural state before.

As he finished telling the story, Dumbledore's features began to settle into a dreadful countenance. He didn't want to believe what he was hearing from the man, and had he not just heard that the boy was a parselmouth from McGonagall, he might have not believed Sirius at all. Yet, here he sat receiving a torrent of unwelcome and distressing news that had suddenly cascaded upon him so abruptly and in such a blunt nature that he too thought he might faint – just as Minerva did hours ago.

Finding himself bewildered if not confounded at the staggering report just delivered to him by one of his most trusted professors, Albus laid one of his elbows on his desk as he pinched his eyes shut with his hand.

"I must ask something of you Sirius…." Dumbledore let out in a sigh after a full minute of silence, acting as though a favor was the last thing he wanted from the man. "You must-"

"You know as well I that I cannot," Sirius cut in swiftly, almost expecting what was to be asked of him. "If you need someone to keep an eye on him, why don't you offer him private lessons? I'm sure any student would die for the chance-"

"Please, Sirius…" Dumbledore interrupted as a pleading old man might. "If his family were to ever discover that I had become close with the boy they would send him away from here before we knew what happened to him. You know I wouldn't ask this of you unless it was necessary."

Sirius' eyes widened a bit at the headmaster's remark.

"And what of me?" Sirius restrained himself from raising his voice. "Bellatrix, the Malfoys….they would kill me if they discovered that I had anything to do with the boy. Please Albus…I beg you, you cannot ask this of me. Why not Snape? He's Cyrus' godfather after all…"

"I will surely mention this to Severus as well…" Dumbledore replied offhandedly, "but if the child will not confide in his godfather...and apparently he has yet to do so...then you are the only one that has any hope of bonding with him. You share his blood, Sirius. If what I have been told today is true, then we cannot allow him to continue down his current path…So I ask you again. Please Sirius, will you help me?"

Sirius was now looking at the ground as he shook his head in frustration, almost kicking himself for not having anticipated such a request, and not at all willing to completely give in.

"I suppose I will try…to find some way of keeping an eye on him, and I will offer Snape as much support as I can before he drives me totally mad, but I will not…under any circumstance, risk my life in a futile effort to bond with this child Albus. His family is too dangerous… I would know."

And with that, Sirius turned on his heel in anger and headed back towards the stairwell he ascended from, not allowing Dumbledore much more than another deep sigh as he left... avoiding a lengthier discussion that could quite possibly put him in further danger. He was starting to regret the fact that he had confided in the headmaster at all, as he was now mildly concerned for his future well-being.

BREAK...

It was past midnight in the Slytherin common room as Cyrus, Pansy, Draco, Daphne, and Blaise huddled around a crackling fire place to keep warm in the drafty dungeons, their eyes intently focused on the Slytherin heir as he had just finished telling them what he discovered just a few days ago. The Slytherin quarters had always been an intimate and cozy setting to Cyrus with the rich emerald carpeting and the plush silver and green furniture neatly arranged throughout the spacious chamber, and he figured it to be the perfect place for a quick meeting that had just evolved into an hour long discourse over their future schemes.

Not a single one of them had ever heard of a Lord Tyranicus - much to Cyrus' disappointment - yet they were all eager to research this mysterious figure now that they were all aware that the new Slytherin heir might also be an heir to such an ancient and powerful sorcerer. Every one of them were spouting out cleverly devised yet improbable strategies on how they might obtain such archaic and obscure data concerning the first dark lord of the magical world. After a few moments, however, Cyrus interrupted them.

"These are all...uh...great ideas guys...but right now we need to focus on one step at a time. And I know this might sound...naive'...but we should probably start in the restricted section in the library. They might not have much on him, but they probably have enough to point us in the right direction. And right now we aren't even sure where to begin our search."

At saying this, everyone's anxious expressions evolved into one of weariness, clearly startled by the idea. Cyrus already knew that it was likely because his plan was the only one to put them directly at risk, but was unsure of how to approach them without either pleading his case or intimidating them. Suddenly though, as it was obvious no one wanted to go through with the plan, Pansy stood up and began to speak to them as a stern and yet ashamed mother might.

"Honestly," she exasperated, "are all of you such cowards that you will not even risk detention over something as important as this? Slytherin's heir asks you to take a quick trip to the restricted section and you cower in fear?! Amazing..." she added in finality as she sat down next to Cyrus, who was sitting on a cushioned stool hardly large enough for two.

"You mustn't ask me twice Cyrus...I'm going with you," Pansy added as she scooted as close as she could to him.

Cyrus found it rather odd - if not awkward - that she was now sitting with him on his stool instead of the perfectly comfortable armchair she had stood up from, yet he was also too impressed with her to think much of it. Even if for a fleeting moment, she quickly reminded him of his aunt - and practically second mother - Bellatrix. He hadn't really noticed it until now, but she too possessed the same zealous and domineering disposition that no one dared to cross.

It must had been a full twenty seconds before Cyrus snapped out of his mild shock, but he finally managed to get out a sincere "Thank you, Pansy," before Draco cut in.

"I'm with you too brother," he said reluctantly. "But if father finds out that we were actually caught during our first week of school -"

"He won't," Pansy quickly cut it. "Do you not believe that your brother is capable of -"

"Of course I do!" Draco interrupted, clearly agitated with Pansy. "I just...well...I don't know...never mind I guess...," he trailed off before looking at Cyrus and finishing in a more genuine tone, "I'm in."

It took a few more moments of silence before everyone nodded and followed suit, verbally concurring with Draco and Pansy with a simple, "I'm in."

It was only a few minutes after agreeing to meet at the same time and place the very next night when they all departed for their bed chambers, Cyrus promising that he would stay up all night to try and figure out a way to conceal them all. Just as they were getting up and walking off though, Pansy stayed put, gazing at the dying embers as everyone neared their respective stairwells.

"Cyrus!" she called out,"...Do you have a minute?"

Looking back over towards the sitting area, Cyrus gestured for Draco and Theodore to go on without him and curiously traced his steps back towards the girl that had so willingly stood up for him just moments ago.

"What is it Pansy?" he asked courteously.

Waiting until the room was vacated, she gently sauntered towards Cyrus until she was within inches of his body, confidently yet enigmatically gazing into the fathomless depths of his dazzling emerald eyes. It was as if she were trying to uncover something deeper and more profound about the boy. Then, within a heartbeat's notice she smiled with a tenderness she had never before displayed, looking as though she had just discovered what she was looking for, something that she somehow knew had to be pried from the remote and unexplored regions of the boy's soul.

Cyrus seemed untroubled by Pansy and peered back into her own eyes with the same fervor and zest she was now relishing in, examining her features as if they reflected something more significant than the superficial. To him, her eyes were unadulterated and pure, strangely unaffected by the flickering embers of the room or the sinful nature buried in each of them. Her smile was impossibly unblemished and uncorrupted of the worldly influences around them; her lips surely more pristine and unstained of mortal imperfection than any other. Mesmerized, Cyrus briefly wondered if these angelic attributes could run deeper than mere flesh. Whatever the answer, he knew this was a rare moment of deep and mutually shared affection.

Pansy lifted her hand and fondly brushed Cyrus' raven hair from his forehead, revealing the mystical scar that had remained such an enigma throughout his life.

"My mother used to tell me..." Pansy began with a soft and eloquent voice , "there are those of us born of this earth...and those of us born of the stars. Why is it that you sometimes act so plainly and unsure...when you are so clearly marked by greatness?"

Cyrus was left dumbfounded at her words, speechless and unable to respond to such a statement. However, she apparently did not expect any such reply as she leaned over and allowed her lips to caress his fire-lit cheek, transmitting a warmth and riveting energy that Cyrus had never quite experienced before - reminding him of how the boggart made him feel earlier in the day.

"Will you allow me to come with you tonight? If you are going to study... then I want to help you."

Again, Cyrus was rendered dumbstruck and inarticulate. He had been left frozen by all of her unanticipated advances, and this was surely a request that he could not consent to...as his personal study was not his, but Lord Voldemort's. Before he could deny her though, his familiar spoke up.

"Thisss youngling can be trusssted massster. Embrace her..." is all that Sevins had to say, knowing it to be encouragement enough for a boy that lacked true companionship.

At hearing these words, Cyrus lifted his eyes at once and looked back at Pansy before hesitantly nodding his head, remaining unsure of what to say but now confident in his newfound feelings for this girl.


	15. Chapter 15

It is possible that I will finish continue/finish this story...I do not know


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